Fire and Ice
by MatsuMama
Summary: Sequel to Blood and Ashes, continuing HitsuMatsu. Set in the future as established in BaA. Fluff! Drama! Mystery! More fluff! Rating for language and dark angstiness with the occasional lemon. See Author's Profile for UPDATES, etc. FINALE IS UP!
1. At Long Last

"Taiiiii-cho!" 

"Matsumoto, how many times must I tell you, you don't have to call me that when we're alone." Hitsugaya muttered absently, trying to remain absorbed in the half-done report on his desk.

Unfortunately, that was going to be rather difficult, considering he couldn't even be in the same room with his fukutaicho without his blood pressure rising considerably. In years past, her effect on him would have been attributed to mere irritation, no less considering that half the day was gone and this was her first appearance in the office. However, over the last near-decade, it was an entirely different reason that got his heart rate accelerated when in her presence.

He watched her flounce, undaunted, into the room, and quietly ground his teeth. Going by the playful tone in her voice, he knew she was up to something. A quick attempt to supress a smile went rather badly, leaving him with a peculiar twisty expression on his face; usually, when she was in this mischievous mood, it resulted in some thoroughly irritating distraction that got him frowning up a storm. And _that_ usually led to a thoroughly enjoyable and rather elaborate make-out session. Which normally wouldn't be such a bad result, but he just couldn't deal with it today. Since he was the one insisting on maintaining reservation on the physical front until the height issue resolved itself, he always had to stop things before they went too far, which lately had become difficult to the point of impossible. For some unknown reason, over the last few weeks her determination to wear down his resistance had become almost manic. It was hard enough going through a sort-of adolescence, albeit in the spirit-being sense, without having the most beautiful woman in the Gotei 13 practically throwing herself at him at every possible chance. Just last night she had fully accosted him in the hallway outside his room, and only some quick action and the somewhat desperate slamming of his door had allowed him to escape with his kimono only partially undone. Hers had been positively scandelous.

_Dammit all, _he grumbled to himself. As usual, she had the worst timing; just a little bit longer and he would have had all the paperwork done for the day. He started writing faster, determined not to get distracted.

"Well, we _are_ in the administrative office, Toshi, and old habits die hard." Refusing to be ignored, she plumped her ample bottom down on the edge of his desk, knowing full well how hard it would be for him not to look.

"Dangit, don't call me that either!" Gritting his teeth, he stubbornly jabbed another hiragana onto the page. She started swinging a shapely leg in a decidedly languid manner and her perfume was starting to make his head spin.

"Well then, what _should_ I call you, my little dumpling?" Rangiku placed one arm on the desk in front of him, leaning into it and giving him plently of opportunity to gaze at her prize-winning cleavage. He couldn't help but see them in his peripheral vision and as usual found himself silently marvelling at how her attire somehow managed to defy gravity. He wondered, not for the first time, if she actually employed kido to keep her kimono on.

"Matsumoto..." he growled in warning.

"_Toushiro_..." she growled back playfully.

"_Hitsugaya_!" He finally barked, snapping his head up to glare at her and rapidly forgetting about his reports. Her eyes were especially blue today, a playful glint dancing in them fit to make his blood boil, and he could never get over how dark or how long her lashes were...Swallowing hard, he forced himself to look back at his papers but couldn't for the life of him remember what he'd been writing. "You can call me Hitsugaya. Here. Alone." Ye gods, now he was forgetting how to speak.

"Very well, then..._Hitsugaya_," If her eyes were a distraction, than that buttery tone in her voice nearly drove him insane. She shifted herself to sit directly on his papers, and now there was no way at all _not_ to look at her assets. Hitsugaya wanted very much to yell at her, but as she leaned in he found his eyes starting to drift closed, his chin automatically tilting up towards the kiss he knew was coming...

Something wet gooshing into his lap made his eyes fly open. A large pool of black ink was spreading rapidly across this desk and dripping industriously all over his kimono.

"_Gyah!"_ Hitsugaya shoved himself backwards, jumping to his feet and staring in dismay at his stained haori. A furious glance at his desk showed Matsumoto's hand resting right next to the overturned inkwell. "MATSUMOTO!"

"Oh gods...I'm sorry..." She gasped. "Here, let me help..." Grabbing a fistful of papers, she started sopping up the mess.

"_NO_! Those are my...WERE my reports.." He gnashed his teeth, flustered. "Would you just get out of the way?" Placing a hand firmly on her rump and trying desperately to ignore how good it felt, he shoved her away from the spreading pool of ink. As rattled as he was, it really wasn't surprising when he misjudged and pushed a little too hard, dumping her unceremoniously onto the floor.

"Ow!" she wailed, rubbing herself and pouting in an obnoxiously pretty way. "That _hurt_, Toshi..."

"_I said don't call me that_!" he roared. Hearing a timid rapping at the doorway, he whirled around and snapped, "_What is it!?"_

Hanataro flinched and tried to hide himself behind the doorframe. "U-um, excuse me Hitsugaya-taicho...I have a delivery for Matsumoto-fukutaicho..." Holding out a bottle of hangover cure in trembling hands, he seemed unable to decide if he was using it as a shield or as a peace offering. Impossibly, his eyes grew even wider when he caught sight of Matsumoto splayed inglamorously on the floor. "A...are you all right, Matsumoto-san?"

"She's fine." "I'm fine."

They answered at the same time and Hitsugaya quickly swallowed a howl of frustration. "It was an accident..." Embarrased, he started to rake a hand through his tangled mop, halting himself just short of giving himself an inky black streak in his hair. "Uhm, could you...help her up, Hanataro? I seem to be_..."...a complete mess_, he finished to himself, dismayed by the dark stains covering himself and his desk.

Hanataro looked as if he had been invited into a Hollow pit, but took a single brave step into the room before Matsumoto forstalled him.

"It's okay, Hanataro. Nothing's broken, I think..." She scrambled awkwardly to her feet, throwing a glare at Hitsugaya. Dropping her voice and speaking between gritted teeth, she intimated, "_Someone_ is going to have to 'kiss it and make it feel better' _later_, though..."

"Thank you, Hanataro," Hitsugaya said quickly, and loudly. _Gods, what if he'd heard that_..."That will be all." He was still at a loss as to what to do about his wet inky hands when Hanataro coughed apologetically.

"Uhm...well, there's more..." Trailing off and looking like he wanted to disappear, Hanataro fairly wilted under Hitsugaya's glare. "Unohana-taicho would like to see you right away, please...Hitsugaya-taicho..." He looked like he was sorry he'd ever been born.

"What for?" Hitsugaya was baffled, and the last thing he needed now was to present himself before one of his peers looking like a bedraggled skunk.

"Oh, she _never_ tells us that sort of thing...but she did suggest...that I ask you...to come as soon...as...possible..." Hanataro was shaking like a leaf at this point and Hitsugaya wondered in utter despair why he always ended up scaring the living daylights out of the poor kid.

"Fine," Hitsugaya said through bared teeth, trying to keep his rage to a quiet simmer. "Matsu...I'm sorry, again. Please try to clean this up..." Feeling stupid at the flat look she was giving him, he dropped his shoulders in defeat and, giving up any pretense of formality, without another word he flashed away.

* * *

Hitsugaya picked absently at the dried ink flaking off his fingers. He'd been sitting in Unohana's office for the better part of an hour, wondering what on earth the urgency could have been if she wasn't here to meet him. Outside the large window on one side of the room, he could see apple blossoms dancing gaily on the warm summer breeze but gave them little mind. He was feeling decidedly stiff and unpresentable since the ink had started drying and longed at the very least for a wash basin in which to clean his hands. He had just decided to go in search for one, rising abruptly to his feet, when he sensed an approach of considerable reiatsu and Unohana Retsu swept into the room.

"Hitsugaya-taicho, thank you so much for indulging me today." She glided towards her desk, regarding him calmly, and if she registered his ridiculous appearance she gave no sign of it.

"Not at all, Unohana-tacho." Feeling a little ungracious at his impatience, Hitsugaya automatically drew himself up to full hight and tried to cling to whatever dignity he could still claim. "You wanted to see me?"

"Yes, thank you," she replied pleasantly, giving him one of her mild yet oddly disconcerting looks. After a long and pregnant pause, she spoke simply. "Hitsugaya-taicho...how are you feeling?"

Feeling slightly startled and more than a bit put on the spot by the question, Hitsugaya was at a momentary loss for words. "I...I'm fine, thank you, Unohana-taicho." At the keen glint in her eye, he found himself fidgiting slightly and trying to hide his seething frustration. "May I ask what your concern might be?"

Rising from her seat, she glided over to a shelf containing several strange-looking objects. "It has been brought to my attention that you've seemed rather..._stressed_ lately."

"Stressed?" He gaped. "Unohana-taicho, I don't know who has been speaking with you, but I can assure you I am just fine..."

"I am told that you sleep less than usual, have become even more short-tempered than normal and have lost some appetite." Choosing an item from the shelf, Unohana turned and regarded him with an uncomfortably sharp look. "It's been reported that you seem less focused lately and pay little attention to details, which I know is not standard for you." Slowly she approached him, object in hand. "Hanataro just now mentioned some kind of incident that involved an inkwell and your vice-captain, which I must admit made little sense at all - also not like you in the least." Stopping a foot or two away from him, she regarded him closely, eyeballing the stains covering him with significant poignency. "Are you telling me these reports are inaccurate?"

"Completely!" Hitsugaya sputtered, trying to not to notice how defensive he sounded. "I'm perfectly fine, I just...there's been a lot of paperwork lately, and Matsumoto..." O_ops, not good to go there;_ fighting his sudden furious blush, he hurried on, hoping she wouldn't notice. "...well's she's _Matusmoto_, and...then the ink spilled..." He abruptly clamped his mouth shut, realizing he was babbling. He'd rarely felt so humiliated and awkward in his life.

After a long silence, Unohana spoke, deadpan. "I see." A moment later and, a frighteningly nonchalant smile gracing her face, she reached out and showed him the smooth, cylindrical rod that she held in her hand. "Perhaps, then, you could indulge me just a moment longer? It wouldn't hurt to do a quick scan, since you've taken the trouble to come here."

Hitsugaya wanted to explode from frustration but after a moment's reflection he swallowed it instead. He realized with a sinking feeling how ridiculous he must look and couldn't fault the healer's precaution. After all, it really wasn't like him to be so flustered, or covered in flaky black goo for that matter, and he _was_ feeling rather edgy lately... Nodding miserably, he watched in curious wariness as she held out the rod perpendicular to him and took a deep breath. A moment passed, and then he could feel her releasing a small amount of reiatsu into the object. It started to glow, ever so faintly.

He was always fascinated by the strange little objects she used to do her job, and this one was no different. "What does that do?" he couldn't help asking, a tiny furrow forming between his eyebrows.

"It's an especially refined sensor that provides me with detailed information about a patient." Unohana replied calmly, glancing up at him with a serene smile.

His furrow deepened. "How detailed?"

"Very," she replied smoothly, not taking her eyes off the rod. "Temperature - 98.7 degrees, blood sugar level 115, just a hair above normal, and blood pressure is 110/90, also elevated..." She clucked worryingly at him, which just irritated him further. "...muscle tissue enzymes at .72, height 180 cm, weight-"

"I get it," he said quickly, wishing he'd never asked. "Thank you." He tried looking anywhere but at Unohana while she continued to examine her readouts, finding it nearly impossible to hide either his impatience or the unnerving feeling that he was being mildly violated. He also tried to ingore the distrinct impression that she was amused by him. He ended up looking out the window, watching the petals floating languidly on the breeze, and couldn't help but feel that they were being more than a little insipid. An eternity seemed to pass.

Finally, with one last enigmatic mutter, the wand went out and Unohana lowered it, turning without a word to replace the item on its shelf and return to her desk. Where she placidly picked up her pen and started writing.

Hitsugaya waited several minutes, equal parts mystification and annoyance, before he broke the silence. "Unohana-taicho? Was there anything else?"

"Only one thing, Hitsugaya-taicho," she replied, straightening up and handing him a piece of paper on which the ink was still drying. "I must thank you greatly for your patience and co-operation. Please let me know if there is any further way in which I can be of assistance to you."

Bug-eyed, he stared at the paper. Certainly, he couldn't be reading it right. "You...you could explain _this_, Unohana-tachio." He struggled to keep the outrage out of his voice. "_'Hitsugaya Toushirou is hereby ordered to medical bed rest for the next seven days, at which time upon medical review he can continue in the duties required by his position_.' What the hell...?" Hitsugaya broke off, almost as mortified at swearing at his elder as he was at what he was reading. He could feel a vein starting to throb in his temple.

"I would venture to say that the document is self-explanatory," Unohana replied, unfazed.

He continued spluttering, but was stopped by the steely gaze she threw at him.

"Histugaya-taicho, you have been under my care for many years now, and I can tell you that I have never seen you in such a state. Your readings are all elevated, the toxins in your muscle mass are at alarming levels and you can barely put a sentence together." His mouth opened and closed, rather like a fish, but no sound came out. "On top of all that, you are covered, inexplicably, in ink, and so far today you have trashed your office, upended your fukutaicho and frightened my subordinate. Now," Unohana continued firmly as he started making awkward strangled noises. "I would appreciate it if you do not question my authority or my expertise and follow my instructions to the letter. I would further recommend, off the record, that you find some relaxation method in which to engage yourself during your haiatus. It will certainly speed up the healing process and get you back to your normal self in an expeditious period of time. Otherwise," and now the look she gave him was positively threatening, "I may have to _extend_ your sick leave." Calmly, she turned back to her papers. "That is all I have for you at this time, Hitsugaya-taicho. Please report to me in one week if you have any further concerns. Now, I must hurry off, as I presently have a meeting with Yamamoto-sutaicho. Unless," she looked at him pointedly, "there is something you would like me to bring up with the Captain Commander?"

How her serene expression could have so many different and alarming facets, he didn't know. But she had him utterly cornered, and she knew it.

"_I_ didn't spill the ink...and Matsumoto was an _accident_..." Hitsugaya muttered, making fists and releasing them in turn, absently crushing his medical orders in the process. With a huge sigh, he dropped his shoulders in defeat. "No, thank you Unohana-taicho. There is nothing you need bother the Captain-Commander with..."

Restraining a growl, he turned on his heel and stalked out.

* * *

Hitsugaya was far too upset to focus his reiatsu for shunpo, and decided that a brisk walk would help clear his head anyway. During the long trek back to Tenth compound, he reviewed the whole day in his mind, trying to see what went wrong. Clearly, it all hinged on his vice-captain; her clumsiness, her sexiness, the way she smelled so deliriously magnificent...hell her very _presence_ had started this unfathomable spiral into madness. He indulged in a thorough review of every single flaw or awkward moment attributable to his fukutaicho over the years, fuming silently to himself and barely noticing how many shinigami jumped out of his way as he stalked home. His conversation with Unohana was particularly irksome; while he truthfully could not remember a single time he had won an argument with her, he still would have normally put up a more respectable fight. And usually she respected his privacy and let him make his own decisions on his health...

_Maybe something_ is _wrong with me,_ he wondered grumpily to himself.

He was almost to the safety of his quarters when blonde hair and blue eyes popped up in front of him.

"Taicho...?" Worry and something else was simmering in his fukutaicho's eyes and she reached out a hand towards his forehead. "Are you okay...?"

"I'm fine!" he yelled, jerking away from her touch. "Why does everyone keep asking me that?" Hitsugaya started to stalk past her but she grabbed his arm and whipped him around to face her with surprising strength.

"Toushirou, look at me - you're acting like a crazy person!" Her fierce glare made him stop and swallow, and he realized how out of control his temper had gotten. Embarrassed, he tried to pull away but she was intractible. Reaching up to place her hands on either side of his face, Rangiku pulled his head towards hers, tipping it down until there were eye to eye, foreheads touching. Looking deeply into his eyes, she spoke low, urgent. "Toshi..._what is wrong_?"

To his horror, tears actually started to spring to his eyes. _What the hell...I haven't cried since_...Slumping against the wall, he pulled loose and let himself drop to his heels, the wall the only thing keeping him up, and rubbed his face with his hands. "I don't know," he said miserably. "I can't think straight, I'm...having all these crazy thought and..._feelings_, and nothing makes any sense..." He was too humiliated to look at her. "If this is puberty, it's just pure _hell_..." Gods, was that whiney voice really his? He wanted to sink into the floor.

Matsumoto's face softened in sympathy as she rubbed a hand through his hair. "Well, you have been awfully distracted lately, and you haven't noticed anything _important_ in _weeks_..." Her other hand started to stroke his neck, and HItsugaya found himself leaning into the caress. It just felt _so_ good, and he could feel the tension slowly starting to melt away...

Jerking, he brushed her hands away. "Well, you're not helping. Everytime I turn around you're..._there_..." He knew how horrible that sounded, but didn't know how to put into words how jumpy he felt around her lately. His skin prickled, and he felt like it was too tight on his frame. Rubbing his arms in agitation, Toushirou let out a sigh. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean it like...I _like_ when you're around me, of course, it just...it's..." He gave up, his stomach lurching as his eyes started burning again.

"Oh, Toshi, for a genious you really are dense, sometimes!" He threw a glare at her, was met by laughter in her smoldering eyes. "I've been trying to _help_ you, baka!"

"Well, it's not _helping_ to have you jump me every ten mintutes!" Hitsugaya growled, his body tensing. "Do you really think this is _easy_ for me? That I just have endless resources to resist you? _Look_ at you, for gods sake...!" He realized how loudly he was talking, and prayed to high heaven none of his other subordinates were in the building.

With an exasperated sigh, Rangiku planted her hands on curvy hips. "Toshi, you moron..._how tall am I_?"

He spoke from behind his hands as he rubbed his eyes. "You're five-ten. How many times do I have to ask you not to rub it in...?"

"Metric," she demanded.

His brain did the calculation in a fraction of a second. "179 centimeters, what difference does it make...?"

Toushirou's whole body froze as the air caught in his lungs. Unohana's voice from earlier that afternoon drifted across his memory.

"..._height, 180 centimeters, weight_..."

In slow motion, he looked up again at those cornsilk eyes. Launching himself to his feet, he looked at her, his face inches from hers, his eyes just slightly higher than her eye level...

And then he was crushing her to him, kissing her, and the blood was singing in his veins. A distant part of him worried for a second that he might be hurting her, but then she melting into his arms, her whole body pressed against his, and when a gutteral purr rattled in the back of her throat he lost it completely.

They barely got the door to his room open in time.

* * *

Two and a half days later, while he was still out of breath, Hitsugaya got just enough lucidity back to realize something was nagging at him.

"Rangiku, I don't understand," he managed. "How did Unohana know...?" The rest was lost as her playful nipping stole all the breath from his lungs in a loud whoosh.

"Silly man," she chuckled. "We're _women_." His baffled look made her laugh even harder. "Oh, my brilliant Toshi, you have _so_ much to learn..."

Grabbing her head and pulling her insistently towards his, he reached hungrily for her lips.

"_Then you'd better teach me..."_


	2. Morning After

With a luxurious sigh, Hitsugaya opened his eyes. 

The sun was pouring into his room, falling across his back and warming the lean muscles pleasantly as tiny particles in the air glowed golden and drifted on the slight breeze gliding through the open window. Blinking lazily, he allowed the warm air to seep into him, producing a languid feeling of heaviness in limbs that had been quite thoroughly employed over the last several days. Accustomed as he was to coolness, the overall effect of the sun-kissed room on his sated body was intoxicating, and for once in his not-so-very-long life he wanted to simply let his eyes drift shut and go back to sleep.

But lapses in duty or discipline did not come naturally to him and indulgent as these past days had been, a restless part of him refused to be ignored any longer. Stretching muscles that had never been so relaxed, Toushirou pushed himself up off his stomach and rolled over, jerking himself up onto his elbows when he saw the empty sheets next to him. It wasn't lost on him that finding himself alone in his own bed was nearly as shocking as having gotten used to sharing it in such a short period of time. His eyebrows started to draw together, but before he could start to wonder where his bedmate might be, a clue conveniently presented itself. Pinned onto the pillow was a tiny note on pink paper, and as he fingered it he felt a soft smile ghosting his face.

_See you in the office, Sleepyhead _

_-R-_

He couldn't help barking a short chuckle. _She's one to talk_... An instant later he was whipping his head back around to look at the long sunbeams streaming across the room, his eyes widening. _Hang on...what time is it...?_

A quick look at the sharp angle of light pouring through the window produced an annoyed grunt. _It's late_. Leaping out of bed and trying somewhat ineffectively to find clothes that had been quite thoroughly scattered around the normally clean room, he eyeballed the sky outside. Where most people would at best guestimate the hour, Toushirou's acute intelligence provided a disastrously accurate time of day. _Very_ _late_...

Despite the fact that he rarely took long to get ready for the day, he was pretty sure that morning set a new record.

* * *

Traipsing down the stairs, Toushirou's first intention was to head straight for the office, as was his usual custom. He generally liked to get a lay of the land, that is to say the approximate height of his paperwork mountain, before starting the day. It helped him to focus before he settled in at his desk, to gauge how many hours of filing and reporting were before him, and he usually determined breakfast based on work volume. Three or four stacks of status reports and subordinate profiles were usually good for some eggs and bacon resting on a bed of home-fried potatoes. A fifth stack of projected training program improvements generally called for an added side of french toast dripping in butter and syrup. Six or more stacks, or any _hint_ of a budget audit, and he was forced to add a large bowl of fresh watermelon just to give himself a reason to go on living.

Today, however, his stomach was growling fit to make Heineko sound tame and he couldn't bear the thought of even _looking_ at his desk until he had put some food into himself. In fact, he realized that he had been ravenous for quite some time now.

_I guess a week_ (oops, nope - make that two weeks...he had ended up asking for the extension on his 'medical leave' after all) _in...uhm...'_bed' _will do that to you_, he pondered grimly, the barest hint of a blush starting to form. _No wonder Kyouraku-taicho can metabolize alcohol so effectively_..._or stay in such good shape for that matter, with all the naps he takes..._Confident that not one but two of his life's great mysteries had finally been answered, Hitsugaya struck out across the common green towards the kitchens.

The first shinigami he met fell back respectfully, looking slightly more agog than was necessary when faced with a captain, but Hitsugaya had long ago gotten used to strange looks and paid him little mind. He didn't recognize the young man off-hand but that wasn't unusual; Hitsugaya was annoyingly bad at keeping up-to-date on all of his subordinates and relied heavily on Matusmoto to not only put a name to every face but to also have a full complement of relevant details about each squad member. Of course, she was unbelievably well-versed in both professional and personal information, and he had spent countless hours sifting through idle gossip for some worthwhile pearls of insight.

Entering the kitchens, Hitsugaya glanced about and saw even more unrecognizable faces; commiting them quickly to memory, he reminded himself to ask Matsumoto about the new recruits later on. For now, he had more important things on his mind. Tummy rumbling up a storm, he brushed through the late-morning breakfast crowd as dozens of shinigami fell away before him, allowing him clear access to the front of the service line. Nodding at the few faces he did recognize, he took his place at the front of the counter and looked over the morning's food options, trying very hard to keep from salivating.

"H-hitsugaya-taicho!" stammered the cook behind the counter. "Good m-morning...what c-can I get for you, sir?"

Hitsugaya eyed the man slightly; he _was_ here somewhat later than usual, but the chef was usually unflappable and considerably better spoken. "Good morning," he responded energetically. "I'll take the works."

Eyes fairly bulging, the chef jumped to the task. "One of everything, yes _sir_!"

_What's gotten into_ _him_...? Hearing a strange sound, Hitsugaya glanced over his shoulder at the line stretching out behind him. A sea of innocent faces met his gaze, but he was sure he'd heard something. _Was that a cough or a chuckle?_ he mused, trying to figure out what was so funny. _Well, the chef _is _acting rather strangely today_...

Wondering what had gotten into his squad, Toushirou turned back around to watch the cook piling food high on a plate and by mere coincidence caught a glimpse of himself in the shiny counter-top. Suddenly, his squad's odd behavior made perfect sense. He could clearly see his own reflection and to his shock...

He was _smiling_.

Not just a tiny smile, mind you. A rather sizable one that looked decidedly goofy and very nearly showed teeth.

This information instantly made Hitsugaya embarrassed, which just as instantly made him grumpy. By the time the chef handed him his over-flowing breakfast plate, Hitsugaya was frowning up a storm and fighting a blush to boot.

"Here you go, Taicho," offered the chef, and when Hitsugaya snatched it from him with a growl and a deep grimace, the poor man actually looked relieved.

Not that Hitsugaya got off so easily; the long walk down the line and back out into the courtyard was a unique kind of torture as he tried to ignore the frighteningly knowing and (dare he say it?) unabashedly proud looks on his subordinates faces. After what seemed like half a lifetime, he finally escaped into the late morning sunshine just ahead of the wave of snarking and chortling that erupted from the building behind him. Which wasn't nearly as bad as the cheering and hooting that followed.

Blushing a deep crimson and abandoning all pretense at dignity, Hitsugaya flash-stepped directly back to the safety of his office and tried to sink into the floorboards.

* * *

His embarrassment and fury lent him an unusual amount of focus. Determined as he was not to think about the fact that not only did half his squad seem to know _what_ he'd been up to for the last two weeks but also with _whom_, both his paperwork and his breakfast seemed to veritably disappear before his eyes. He barely registered that it was late afternoon before the object of both his intense desire and extreme misery appeared in the room.

"Morning, sleepyhead!"

He jumped, as the words were delivered in a sultry tone not a hair's breadth away from his right ear. _Dammit, I didn't even notice her coming? I _must _be out of sorts_...He threw a silent glare internally towards Hyourinmarou, who usually announced Matsumoto's presence long before he himself registered it, but the dragon just chuckled mutinously in reply. _Traitor_...

Before he could do much more than grind his teeth, Matsumoto dropped herself into his lap and planted a big, fat kiss on his lips.

Spluttering, Hitsugaya quickly pushed her face off his, arms flailing. "Matsumoto, knock it off!" _Ye gods, what if someone had walked in just now_...

"Oh, relax, Toshi, everyone knows." She squinched her nose at him and started to lean in again, but he grabbed her firmly by the upper arms and held her to a safe distance.

Gulping, he could feel the blood rushing to his face. "What do you mean, _everyone knows_?" _Damn all the gods_, she felt good sitting on his lap, and presently he could feel his blood rushing somewhere besides his face. Somewhat roughly lifting her off him and setting her back on her feet, he plucked ineffectively at the folds of his hakima. "Matsumoto, who the hell have you been talking to?!"

"No one, silly," she replied cheerfully, acting as if nothing in the world was amiss. "But people aren't stupid, you know. We both disappear for two weeks on 'medical leave', and for the first time in your captaincy you not only have food _sent_ to your room, but in suspiciously large quantities, even for you." She stared at him pointedly and seemed completely unfazed by the alarming colors he was turning. "Not to mention the fact that your private suite isn't exactly sound-proof..."

"Oh, for the love of all that's holy!!" Hitsugaya hollared, dropping his head into his hands and trying to keep from throwing up his breakfast. After a long moment of horrified introspection, he muttered despondently, "I'm going to have to arrange a transfer..."

A bubble of laughter burst out of his fukutaicho. "Good gods, Toshi, I thought _I_ had the corner on dramatic." When he raised his head to glare at her, she just chuckled warmly. "You're not going to have to change squads, silly..."

"Of course I won't," he growled, digging through his desk on a pointless search for the correct form. "But _you_ have to get out of here as soon as possible." The sounds of papers rustling filled the next few moments, and it took him that long to realize that the room had gotten dangerously quiet. Glancing up, he noticed a flat look on his vice captain's face as warning lights started flashing in the back of his head. Feeling rather like a deer on the first day of hunting season, he started wracking his brain for the cause of his sudden trepidation.

"'Get out of here'?" Rangiku repeated quietly. Something in her stillness was oddly frightening.

"Well, yes..." Hitsugaya stammered, trying to understand what he'd just gotten himself into. "Matsumoto, you can't possibly stay here now..."

"Oh, really?" Her crystal blue eyes took on a decidedly dangerous glint. Crossing her arms in front of her, she stared at him icily. "So, let me get this straight - we sleep together (his flush at hearing those words out loud was instantaneous) and the first thing you want to do is get rid of me as soon as possible."

"Matsumoto, we _talked_ about this." Good gods, sometimes it seemed like it was the _only_ thing they'd talked about for the last eight years. "We both agreed, it wouldn't be good for...discipline, if you were seen as...as my..." He choked off as her eyes flashed murderously.

"What we _talked_ about was being discreet. We _talked_ about not damaging my reputation any further. We _never_ talked about what we would do once 'we' became public knowledge." Her glare was getting colder by the second, and even Toushirou found himself wanting to shiver. "And we _certainly_ did not talk about foisting me off onto another captain just to spare you some embarrassment..."

"NO, Mastu-...Rangiku, that's not it," Hitsugaya flustered, feeling both angry and guilty for some reason. "I'm not trying to 'foist' you off onto anyone and you know it. You're being completely ridiculous..."

A surge in the energy of the room halted him in his tracks and some deep, dark part of him told him in no uncertain terms that he had just said something phenomenally stupid. Feeling completely out of his league and more than a little trapped, Hitsugaya met her merciless gaze and some intractible part of him stubbornly refused to back down.

Staring at him for a long moment, Rangiku said simply, "I see." Then she turned silently and walked out, trailing behind her a vicious growl barely on the edge of hearing.

Hitsugaya watched her go, unable to say a single word and wondering to high heaven what the hell had just happened.

* * *

Abarai Renji was sitting quite peacably at his desk, minding his own business and trying to figure out why his squad was ranking nearly as low as the Fourth in combat competency. Gritting his teeth, he wondered for the thousandth time if he wasn't being too easy on them. Although, truthfully, his start as the Seventh squad captain had been rocky to say the least, his greatest past-time over the last few years had been trying to figure out how to balance action with consideration. _Rukia has always been after me to use more brains than brawn..._ Himself a man of action, Abarai knew where his strengths lay and often worried that he had erred too far in the other direction to make up for it. Unfortunately, his battalion's latest training evaluations only served to feed that doubt.

_Maybe I should start beating the crap out of them again, that seemed to work...for a while at least_... Writing aparatus sticking out of his mouth, he squinted angrily at the report on his desk and wondered, as he did at least once a day, if it was still too late to change his mind about accepting this position.

"Abarai-taicho!"

At the sharp voice, Renji's head snapped up; he barely had time to register the whirlwind storming into his office before she planted her hands on his desk with a loud slap, her bosoms dangerously close to his face. Fortunately, he'd had plenty of experience ignoring them by now; besides which, if rumors were to be believed, he had no intention of indulging in an eyefull and finding himself with his ass frozen off.

"Matsumoto-fukutaicho..." he stammered, more than slightly taken aback. "What can I-"

"Glad you asked," she growled, a smile that wasn't in the least bit pleasant dominating her face. "I need an assignment. Right now."

Just a little slow on the uptake, Renji blinked at her for a moment. "Matsumoto, I'm not your captain."

"I don't care!" she yelled, causing him to jump back. "I'll take _anything_. I mean it. I'll run messages for you, I'll do Hollow patrol, I'll run your training drills..." She was starting to look angry _and_ desperate. "Renji, I swear to all the gods I'll do your paperwork."

Okay, now she was starting to scare him. Raising one hand as if to ward her off, Renji jumped to his feet.

"Whoa, Matsumoto what the hell...?" he suddenly trailed off, a thoughtful frown crossing his tattooed face. "Hang on...you said you'll run training drills?" This could be a blessing in disguise; the Tenth's training scores were second only to the Eleventh and Fifth squads and only by the thinnest of margins. And though she might be bubbly and sweet to her close friends or whenever off-duty, Rangiku was a battle-axe on the training grounds and her track-record with new recruits was held in awe by other fukutaichos.

"Absolutely. You have _no_ idea how badly I need to wale on something right now..." Her eyes were shining brightly as her grin took a turn towards feral.

Okay, she was _definitely_ scaring him now. Still, though discernment was not a natural talent for him, Renji had long ago learned it wasn't wise to look a gift horse in the mouth, and he was far from stupid besides.

"Okay, okay. Hang on." Not wanting her to lose patience and start whomping on _him_ out of sheer availability, he grabbed a fresh piece of paper and threw some hiragana onto it. "Here," he said hastily. "Just don't ask anyone to read it too closely. I doubt this would actually hold up as official...and for gods sake, don't let Nanao-chan see it..."

She snatched the paper of of his hands before he was done writing. "Thanks, Renji. I owe you one." As she stalked out, he could fairly see her tail lashing, if she had one, and for a brief moment he felt badly for his second batallion.

_Bah. Their scores were lousy last week; this should wake 'em up_. Renji leaned back in his chair and wondered uncomfortably what he had just planted himself squarely in the middle of, hoping desperately that he wasn't headed for a snowball fight. Although known for his confidence in his fighting skills, and duels between captains weren't exactly uncommon, given the 'intimate' nature of the sutiation Renji had little doubt as to how the chips would fall on that one.

Abandoning his post, he strode out of the office and started hopping across roofs.

He had a favor to beg. After all, though he and Matsumoto had become fast friends over the years, all her generous advice had only served to reassure him that he had no talent whatsoever when it came to women, and these things were best left to the professionals.


	3. A Favor

"Oiy." 

At the sound, Kurosaki Ichigo's eyes slid partially open. A split-second later they flew open the rest of the way as tattoos and wild red hair filled his vision. Spasming violently, his hands flew up and shoved at the rock-hard chest of the man hovering inches away from his face.

"_GYAH_! Renji, _godammit_, why the hell do you have to stand so frigging close!?!" Gagging, Ichigo worked his tongue around and spat. "You breathed in my mouth, you freakin' pervert!!"

Calmly absorbing the push, Renji straightened up from his crouch, balancing deftly on the bed and staring down with a dour expression at the furious human beneath him. "Nice to see you too, Kurosaki. That's a hell of a way to greet an old buddy." The feigned hurt on his face transformed effortlessly into a mischievous grin. "Don't say you missed me - I know ya did."

"Like a bad habit," Ichigo groused. "What the hell are you doing here?"

"That's _my_ line," the red-haired captain replied dryly, arms crossed and one eyebrow raised. "I thought you went back to the real world for good, takin' a break from all this shinigami stuff."

"I _was_," Ichigo grumbled, running hand through his strawberry hair. "I mean, I _am_. It's just, well, I had some vacation time at work and Rukia couldn't get away from Thirteenth, so..." He paused, glaring up at Abarai. "Hey, how'd you know I was here, anyway? We've been careful..." Maybe he and Rukia weren't as good at sneaking him into Soul Society as they thought.

"Rukia sent me," was the casual reply, and at the worried look on Ichigo's face, Renji snickered. "Don't worry, baka, she swore me to secrecy and the last thing I need right now is _another_ pissed-off female carrying a zanpaktou. Ichigo," his manner suddenly shifted, and he brought the full weight of his most somber captain face to bear on the hideaway. "I need your help."

Ichigo looked at him askance. "Yeah? What kind of help?"

"Nothing shinigami, I promise. I just need ya to talk to someone." The too-innocent look on Abarai's face sent a surge of deep mistrust though Ichigo's chest.

"What about?"

"Oh, nothin' much," Now Renji was going for nonchalant, which Ichigo found downright alarming. "Just...girl stuff."

"What!?!" Ichigo goggled at Renji. "What do you mean, _girl stuff_? With who?"

"Hitsugaya-taicho."

Hm. That was interesting. "Which girl?"

"Matsumoto-fukutaicho."

Ichogo nearly fell out of the bed. "You've _got_ to be kidding me. But she's...and he's..._short_!" Ichogo felt like his tongue was too big for his mouth and wouldn't work properly.

"Ha!" Renji barked. "You've been away too long. Look, I don't know what's going on, but she stormed into my office earlier and is currently beating the crap out of one of my battalions." Ichigo's confusion was only deepended by the slightly guilty look that snuck into Renji's expression. "I'd talk to Hitsugaya myself, but I've got to go explain to Unohana-taicho why she's getting an influx of my men, and besides..." He trailed off, looking slightly abashed. "You're the one who has experience with this sort of thing."

"Wha- are you _kidding_?! Just cause I'm with Rukia doesn't mean I know what to do about someone else's relationship problems. Besides, I'm NOT a shinigami anymore. And I'm NOT _here_," Throwing his most scathing glare at the figure towering over him, Ichigo stubbornly flipped over and buried his head under the pillow. Only to have it yanked back off a second later.

"I wasn't _asking_, Kurosaki. And unless you want everyone to know that you're snogging Rukia in the vice-captain's quarters without permission to be here, I'd suggest you get yer ass outa bed." Stoically receiving Ichigo's murderous glare, Renji returned it with interest. "Trust me, if there was _anyone_ else I'd ask 'em. Kyouraku-taicho is busy with some Seat from the Twelfth squad, Ukitake is as usual too tired to leave Fourth, Isane is too busy tending to my battalion and Rukia said if you had let her leave a little earlier today she might have had time to do it herself." At Ichigo's furious blush, Renji grinned viciously. "Her exact words were, 'That's what you get for being a greedy, horny bastard.' End quote." Ichigo groaned and threw an arm over his eyes. After a moment, when a sigh of resignation blew out of the defeated human, Renji's grin turned victorious.

Hopping off the bed, Renji strode for the door, pulling the bedsheet with him. "Get moving, Ichigo. Before I run out of battalions entirely." Ignoring the scandalized hollar from the naked man behind him, Renji tossed the sheet over the railing into the courtyard below and took off for Fourth squad.

* * *

_This is _exactly _why I hate coming here_, Ichigo grumbled to himself, a thunderous glower painting his face. _I always get roped into this crap_...

Shrugging uncomfortably, he peered out from behind a huge tree at the corner of a clearing on the edge of the Tenth squad compound. Even though it had been a long time since he'd been in Sereitei, finding the tormented captain had not been difficult; the icy surges of reiatsu had drawn him straight as an arrow. They had also made him regret this mission more and more by the second; a fully-released Hyourinmarou was thrashing wildly around the training grounds and Ichigo was sorely missing Zangetsu. He'd been hiding behind this particularly thick elm for quite some time now, unsure of exactly how present himself without getting his head lopped off. He was nearly out of patience when the raging reiatsu flared one last time and then suddenly dropped into a quietly controlled simmer.

"Come on out, Kurosaki." The exasperated voice rang out.

Ichigo rounded the massive trunk with a sheepish grin. "You knew I was here?"

Still panting slightly, Hitsugaya sheathed his zanpaktou and gave Ichigo a flat look. "Kurosaki, I am not an idiot."

Shrugging self-consciously, Ichigo started to make his way across the glen. "Yeah, I know. I just thought..." Dangit, he _must_ be worse at this whole sneaking thing than he'd thought. "Hey, Toushirou, you grew up!"

Hitsugaya shot him a withering glare. "And _you_ snuck in. I thought you refused to come back here."

"Yeah, I did," Ichigo replied with a wry twist to his lips. "But...well, Rukia couldn't get away, so..." He shrugged again. "The crazy things women make us do."

Hitsugaya delivered an impressively massive snort, and it seemed his flushed face darkened slightly.

After an uncomfortable moment, Ichigo spoke up, just a hair too loudly. "So...what was that, practice or something?" He tried to sound nonchalant as he strolled across the glen.

"Something like that..." Hitsugaya muttered. Eyeing Ichigo sideways, Hitsugaya sighed and spoke, to Ichigo's great surprise. "Matsumoto and I had a fight."

Ichigo frowned. "Don't you guys always fight?"

Hitsugaya tried to glare. "Well, yeah. Kind of. But now it's..." he sighed. "..._different_."

Finishing his approach, Ichigo tried desperately not to sound like he was prying. "Why different? Now, I mean." Reaching the young captain, Ichigo's eyes widened slightly. "Hey, you're taller than I am! Weird," he gave a wry grin. Then suddenly hours and hours of listening to Rukia's gossip from Sereitei paid off. "Ohhhh..." Lights went off in his head. "So, you mean, you two have..."

Without warning, the enormous elm behind him exploded with an ear-shattering thunderclap. As frozen bits of bark and sap started to rain down on them, Ichigo could just barely make out a steely glare issued from icy green eyes.

"I'm sorry," Hitsugaya said in an impossibly flat tone. "You were about to ask something?"

"Uh, er..." Glancing at the shattered stump behind him, Ichigo wisely shifted gears. "So, this fight...what happened exactly?"

"I don't _know!_" Hitsugaya erupted. "We were in my office and we were talking and then she just stormed out..."

"Wait, it's never that simple. What did she say?"

"Nothing! She just turned and walked away..."

"Well, what did _you_ say? Before she left, I mean."

"NOTHING!" Hitsugaya was fairly hollaring as he scrubbed sweaty hands through tangled white hair. "We were discussing...something...and she was being completely ridiculous, so I..."

"Wait, hang on," Ichigo cut him off, gulping. "What did you just say?"

"I said she was being ridiculous..."

"Did you _tell_ her that?"

Hitsugaya was starting to feel out of his depth once more. "Well, yes, I said..."

"You actually used the words 'you're being completely ridiculous'? To a _woman_!?"

And now it was that stupid feeling again. "YES," Hitsugaya seethed impatiently through gritted teeth.

Ichigo shook his head, a dolorous look on his face. "Oh, man. You did it. I mean, you _really_ mucked up..."

"WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT, KUROSAKI?" Hitsugaya's hand started to creep towards his zanpaktou's hilt.

Ichigo drew himself up and used his most grown-up voice. "Toushirou, you never, EVER, tell a woman she's being completely ridiculous. _Ever_. "

Hitsugaya too flabbergasted to back down just yet. "Even when she _is_ being completely ridiculous...?"

"_Especially_ then." Hitsugaya started to open his mouth, but Ichigo forestalled him. "Look, don't bother asking why, 'cause I don't know. Just don't do it. I _mean_ it."

Swallowing hard, Hitsugaya digested that information, a bitter taste in his mouth. "That doesn't make any sense."

"Tell me about it."

As much as he hated to admit it, this was an interesting development. Planting his fists on his hips, Toushirou chewed his lip thoughtfully. "What exactly am I supposed to do about this?"

Ichigo's face crumpled sympathetically. "Well...you're not going to like it."

"What...?"

"You have to apologize."

Hitsugaya momentarily lost the power of speech. "..._I_ have to apologize?"

"Yup."

"But, I didn't-"

"I know."

"But _she's_ the one who-"

"I _know_."

"Then why do _I_ have to-?"

"I _don't_ know." Ichigo admitted. "But it works like a charm. Trust me."

Hitsugaya thought his head was going to explode. Shoving his hands across his scalp, he stifled a scream. "By all the gods in heaven, becoming a captain was easier than this..." he grated through clenched teeth.

"I tell ya, Toushirou - saving all of _Soul Society_ was easier," Ichigo commiserated heartily, and one glance told Hitsugaya that the man wasn't exaggerating.

A long sigh. "Yeah." Hitsugaya scrubbed the back of his head, a tiny, miserable twist stealing across his lips. "Then why do we do this to ourselves?"

"'Cause," Ichigo said simply, "If she's the right one, then she's worth it."

An image, unbidden, flashed into Toushirou's mind: Matsumoto, asleep next to him, her unpturned nose mere inches away from his. The look on her face as she slowly woke up and his sea green eyes were the first thing she saw...

"Yeah." Hitsugaya was quietly and hopelessly forced to agree.

* * *

Toushirou was getting sick of trying to flag down a Fourth squad shinigami for directions. "Uhm, could you please tell me where my fuku-" He tried one last time to politely address a lower Seat hustling past him.

"Fifth wing, Hitsugaya-taicho," the girl panted, swooping away distractedly. Hitsugaya submlimated a growl; at least this one had had the grace to look apologetic. He'd been in the Fourth compound for nearly twenty minutes and still hadn't been given the proper location of his vice. Not that he needed it; he could find Matsumoto anywhere in Soul Society, but manners dictated that he be properly escorted. Unfortunately, the Fourth was in an uproar; Renji hadn't been kidding about an influx, and everywhere Toushirou looked there were battered and groaning Seventh squad members in varying states of bodily injury. Fed up enough to discard all attempts at propriety, Hitsugaya focused in on the all-too-familiar spiritual energy signature and _flashed_.

He was completely aware that she knew he was there, but she refused to turn around and look at him. Perched as she was on the edge of the sickroom bed, the stiff way she held her shoulders told him she was still angry at him. Hitsugaya sighed; he'd been hoping against hope that Kurosaki was wrong about this, but it looked like he was dead-on accurate after all. Steeling himself and trying to ignore the bitter gall at the back of his throat, he spoke.

"Matsumoto..." _Here goes nothing_. "I'm sorry."

A moment passed in agonized silence before her shoulders loosened slightly. Flipping her hair out of the way, she glanced over her shoulder at him, the look in her eyes still harsher than he was hoping for. She scruitinized him with strange look on her face. "Toushirou," she intoned. "Do you have _any_ idea what you're apologizing for?"

_Crap_. They were off the script. Having no relevent insight as to how he should handle this question, Toushirou took a leap towards honesty and hoped for the best. "No. Not really."

And then she was biting her lip and looking for all the world like she was trying not to laugh. He was just starting to panic, having no idea how he could have mucked up yet again, when she saw the look on his face and a warm giggle finally burbled up. "Oh, Toushirou. You're hopeless."

Shrugging self-consciously, he decided that laughter was a good thing and slowly made his way into the room, rounding the end of the bed to stand in front of her. When he did, he forgot everything else, sucking in his breath at the large bandage wrapped around her left arm. "Matsu- what happened!?"

"Oh, it's nothing. I pushed a lower Seat into her first shi-kai and it caught me off guard. I guess I was training her too hard..." She had the grace to look abashed.

"You're calling _me _hopeless?" He clucked at her. "Remind me never to piss you off again. As it is, the Seventh squad may never be the same..." Taking a close look at her bindings and agonizing over the beating she'd taken, he took her already-bruised and swelling hands in his and somberly looked her deep in the eyes. "Matsumoto, I _am_ sorry."

Seeing that he clearly meant it this time, Matsumoto's face softened and she dropped the gaze with a sigh. "No, I'm the one who's sorry. I know, we've talked about all this..._relationship_ stuff for so long, and I know you just don't want to give anyone an excuse to say I'm sleeping my way into an advancement..." She looked back up at him with liquid eyes. "But Toshi...don't send me away. Please. Don't do it just because of some stupid rumor that got started decades ago." Her eyes darkened and she squirmed uncomfortably. "If you want, I'll just go ahead and accept the Thir-..."

"NO." Toushirou cut her off adamantly. "That decision is yours alone to make, and only when you're ready." She started to protest but he firmly overrode her."You are _not_ going to jump into something like that just so we can be a couple in public. I will not have you give up your rights just to...how did you say it? 'Spare me some embarrassment?'" Now _she_ was flushing, and he offered her a wry grin to soothe her. "We'll just be as discreet as possbile and deal with the rest as best we can."

Mollified, she threw her arms around him. "Oh, Toshi. You really are wonderful sometimes, no matter how hard you try to hide it."

Her hug was, as usual, crushing in its strength, and her ample bosom threatened to squeeze all the air out of his lungs. It never ceased to amaze him that he had actually gotton to the point where he missed the days that such an ardent show of affection would have planted them in directly his face instead of his torso. To his embarrassment, the memory alone was enough to elicit an immediate and visceral bodily reaction.

She must have noticed, because when she pulled back there was a wicked twist to her eyes that got his blood rushing even faster. "You know, Toushirou...we just had our first fight."

Her hands were loosening from the embrace and starting to wander. "Matsumoto, we've had a million fights," he murmered hoarsly. It was getting harder to think straight by the second.

"Well, sure, but this was out first _official_ fight," she purred, and as her touch grew more industrious Hitsugaya found himself starting to get dizzy. "That means we get to have our first official..._making-up_..."

"Matsu-" he tried half-heartedly to stop her, but realized that he _really_ didn't want her to. As she started tugging at his haori, he found just enough brain cells still working to ensure a sudden breeze slid the door shut with a sharp clack. Chuckling wickedly, she yanked him down onto the bed.

'Trust me...you're gonna like this..."


	4. The Date

A blood-curdling screech from the bedroom brought Hitsugaya running full-tilt across his personal suite. 

"_Matsumoto_!" He slid to a halt just inside the doorway, noting in an instant that the room was empty save the auburn-haired beauty standing at the far wall with a blank look on her face. "Are you okay?"

"Of course I am," she quipped. "Whyever wouldn't I be?" Turning back towards the wall, she lifted a painting in one hand and a strange, lumpy object in the other. Within seconds the ear-splitting noise filled the room once more.

Clapping his hands over his ears, Hitsugaya hollared. "MATSUMOTO!"

Stopping again and starting to look slightly irked, she glanced over her shoulder. "What _is_ it, Toshi?"

He was staring at the odd contraption in her hand as if it were a live Hollow. "What the hell is that thing?"

"Power tool," she chirped, hefting the unwieldy item. "It's called a 'grill'...or maybe a 'drill'? Hm, can't remember. Ikkaku-taicho brought it back from his last trip to the Real world. It's _fabulous_," she gushed. Turning back to her project, Rangiku jabbed the pointy end of the thingamabob towards the wall. "Makes household projects easy as dirt!" Flexing a forefinger, the sound pealed out again and Hitsugaya could feel his left eye starting to twitch. This time the torture was mercifully brief and presently she was standing back from the wall admiring her newly-hung artwork. "There - perfect!" Whirling around, she flashed Toushirou a brilliant smile. "You should see this thing he got me for the bathroom! It's called a 'mini-sledgehammer' and it's going to get that nasty old flooring up in _no_ time..."

Hitsugaya fought the discouragingly familiar feeling that he was slowly drowning. Ever since their last trip to the real world, Matsumoto had been on an interior designing kick. Despite the fact that they had been sent to Karakura Town on official assignment, Rangiku had effortlessly insinuated herself into Inoue Orihime's living room, spending as little time working as possible and discovering a foreign tv channel called HGTV. To his great dismay, Toushirou had been innundated with strange terms like "complimentary colors", "flow" and "proper staging" ever since.

Hitsugaya sighed loudly. "Rangiku, is it absolutely necessary to..." he desperately hunted for the human word, ".._remodel_?" He liked his austere quarters just the way they were; eyeballing the new painting, he decided rather instantly that he hated it.

"Yes," Matsumoto insisted. "You can't expect me to live in such bachelor-like conditions with all the time I spend here. Honestly, it's not the least bit homey." Hitsugaya wondered exactly what part of 'homey' included her messy pile of dirty clothing strewn around the bedroom in ever-increasing chaos, but knew better by now than to voice the thought. She seemed to read his mind anyway and fixed him with a warning look. "I'm _nesting_, Toshirou. Don't interfere."

Not on his young life. He was, however, determined to distract her. "Erm, Matsumoto, I was thinking..." Great. Now he had to follow that up with something credible. Hitsugaya frantically wracked his brain. "How would you like to get out for a bit? You know, just during the whole...remodel...thing."

That got her attention. She stared at him with interest, blue eyes wide. "You mean...like a vacation?"

"Well, not a _vacation_ per say..." Yuh, as if he could get that past approval. "I was thinking...more like...a sort of..."

She totally misinterpreted his stammering. "You mean like a _date_?" She supplied, her face brightening.

"Er...a what?" Hitsugaya tried to stall, desperately hunting for a way to backtrack.

Matsumoto's delighted squeal hurt his ears nearly as much as the power tool. "Oh, Toshi, you _mean_ it!?" She leapt across the room and threw her arms around him, as usual trying to squeeze the life out of him. "What a wonderful idea - we've never been on a date!" He murfled something into her hair and she pulled back, finally allowing him to draw breath. "What was that?"

"We've been 'dating' for over a decade, Matsumoto," Hitsugaya repeated, flexing an arm and wondering if she'd actually broken it this time. He never could quite figure out how she measured 'firsts'.

"Don't be ridiculous," she miffed, not noticing his slight wince at the dreaded word. "We spent most of that time stalled at second base. It's only been two years since we really became a 'couple', and we've never been on a real date - you _never_ come out with me." Now she was pouting, which he dreaded, but at least she'd helpfully defined things for him.

"That's because I don't drink, and it's all you ever want to do..." Hitsugaya muttered irritably.

"That's not-!! Well, okay, I guess that _is_ true. It's just that there's nothing else fun to do in Sereitei." Rangiku paused thoughfully, tapping a finger against her cheek. "Of course, the Real world is a whole other story..." Her face lit up like the sun. "Where do you want to go? I can have us packed in an hour..."

"Rangiku," Toushirou said rather helplessly, wondering how on earth he was going to get approval for a personal trip to the Real world on short notice, but quickly changed his mind; she looked way too happy for him to back down now. _How the hell do I get myself into these things_? He sighed. "Not tonight." At her sudden and predictable pout, he spoke quickly. "Tomorrow. I have to head over to the Academy first thing in the morning to take a look at the new year students. After that, I promise."

"Oh, right. I forgot. Well, you can't miss that. Okay," Matsumoto gave him a look that made it very clear that he was lucky to get off the hook. "We'll go tomorrow. Besides, that will give me time to get started on the bathroom..!"

As she sailed past him into the rest of the suite on yet another home improvement project, Hitsugaya stifled a growl, threw a glare at the unwanted painting and headed for the administrative office for some much-needed peace, quiet and paperwork.

* * *

Morning dawned crisp and clear over the Academy, the thrill of anticipation mingling with the cool, fresh scent of early fall. First Day was always a scene of moderately organized chaos. The air was fully charged as dozens upon dozens of fortunate and nervous new hopefuls crowded the courtyard, puffed full of ambition and thinly-veiled bravado. As many times as Hitsugaya had attended First Day, he rarely found himself thinking back to his own training. Not only was he not the type to be given to nostalgia, but his Academey years fell far short of golden. While they hadn't been exactly terrible and he did have some fond memories of those days, schools of any kind could be notoriously lonely and unfriendly towards the unabashedly brilliant.

Still, he was always reminded of his own entrance into the academy, how eagerly his young talent had been accepted, and was never more painfully aware of how different things were for these new prospects. The difference had little to do with the fact that few if any were estimated to be talented young geniouses as he had been; ever since the Great War, spirit beings gaining admittance to the training and priviledges of the Gotei 13 had greater obstacles than ever placed before them. Whereas historically the academy was open to most anyone with latent spirit power, over the last decade a stringent screening process had become mandatory. That not one but three captains could rise to the highest shinigami levels only to reveal twisted and treacherous natured, had made the Gotei understandably gun-shy. Now everyone applying to the Academy was carefully examined and tested for similar character flaws. The number of applicants who found themselves turned away were still relatively few, particularly if they displayed reasonable power potential, but those who were deemed cautionary would find themselves carefully monitored and subtly trained to overcome any possibility for future treason.

A quietly intense aura approached Toushirou from behind, as usual bringing to mind the image of an asp - beautiful, silent and deadly.

"Quite a crowd," Hitsugaya pronounced as the figure glided to a halt at his side. Sui Fon grunted in agreement, her sharp eyes never leaving the milling students. She crossed her arms and lazered the scene with her scrutiny.

"More than last year, although more will likely be turned away." She grimaced. "We may still have great need to fill our decimated ranks, but there are too many with incorrect latent sympathies."

"For Aizen? Still?" Hitsugaya never failed to undertstand why anyone in Rukongai had empathized with the traitor, a strange back-lash that had occurred directly after the War and simmered for years. Even though entire sections of the wandering soul town had been levelled in the fighting, and much greater devestation would have occurred had the Hougyuokou survived much longer than it did, a wave of anger and rebellion had been directed not at the traitors but at the Gotei 13. Word had somehow gotten around that Aizen's true goal had been to make Sereitei more egalitarian, an abreviated and barely accurate version of the truth, and many of the lower spirit beings had been swept up in the damaging lies. Hitsugaya had the greatest repect for Sui Fon for her massively effective efforts at stilling the incendiary rumours, but in answer to his question Sui Fon suprisingly gave a curt shake of her head.

"For Ichimaru," she corrected, and Hitsugaya couldn't help whipping his head around in surprise. "For some reason, the undercurrents of treasonous sympathy have grown stronger in the past several months and my agents tell me Aizen's name is heard less and less. Ichimaru, on the other hand," she said, her voice hardening, "did not come from nobility, as Aizen did. His roots are in Rukongai and it seems that there are those who remember it." Turning, she met his wide green eyes, which were starting to sparkle with anger. "The words being whispered are that he was duped by Aizen and murdered for crimes of which he bears no responsibility." Her quartz eyes glittered at him while he absorbed that information.

"That is complete insanity," Hitsugaya growled through gritted teeth, turning back to glare at the new recruits. The man tried to kill Hinamori and very nearly destroyed Matsumoto, not to mention perpetrated the massacre of Room 46 and his own vice-captain...and that was just the short list of Gin's crimes. "Why do people listen to such rubbish?"

"We are trying to find the core group propogating the lies, but it is difficult." Sui Fon shifted, her gaze sharpening as she turned her attention to another group of students. "Rumours are powerful things, and difficult to control." Turning on her heel, she stalked away.

Leaving Hitsugaya to frown a storm up at the milling crowd of students. _They are indeed, _he couldn't help agreeing as a wave of paranoia threatened to sweep over him. His eyes narrowed and he couldn't resist looking a little closer at each individual in the courtyard, trying to discern by looks alone if any of the newlings were stupid or foolish enough to harbor such dark thoughts. Just the mention of his old nemesis had his hackles up and everything he saw filled him with suspicion; a narrowing of eyes, the twitch of a hand, a flash of glittering red...

Suddenly everything went dark, and with a sigh Toushirou reached up to peel hands away from his eyes. "Matsumoto, you know better than to play games when I'm working." He never understood how the person he loved so much could sneak up on him so easily.

"Of course I do," his beautiful fukutaicho replied, swinging her arms down to clasp her hands behind her back and giving him her most innocent look. "I just thought I would help you out. You were beginning to look positively murderous and I think you're starting to scare the children."

He realized that she was right; most of the new students had angled away from him, huddling together and throwing worried glances in their direction. With a grimace, he turned to look into beautiful blue eyes. "What do you want, Matsumoto?"

"You," she shot back, and at his quick glance to see if anyone had heard her, she giggled. "Oh come on, they're all too far away and frightened of you to overhear anything. And since you've done your job and properly put the fear of death-gods into them, I think it's time we get moving. I've got the whole date planned and we're on a tight schedule!" She gave him a wide grin and winked away.

With a muted groan Hitsugaya turned to follow, resisting the urge to throw one last glance behind him and trying to shrug off the itchy feeling that Ichimaru was watching him.

* * *

Hitsugaya stared at the love of his life as if she had grown three heads and stared speaking Pig Latin. "What!?!"

"You stay here, silly." Matsumoto repeated effortlessly. "There's a 'game' on. I don't know what it means but it's a very human 'guy' thing and you're going to love it. _We're_ going to be shopping all afternoon and I know how much you hate that." Matsumoto nodded encouragingly at Orihime, who returned the look rather wanly. "We'll be back at 6 o'clock and then our date is on!!" With a final flourish, she grabbed Inoue and yanked her out the front door. Hitsugaya felt rather badly for the unctuous human, who seemed to be on the verge of saying something soothing before she was unceremoniously wisked away.

All of which left Toushirou alone in the apartment of some poor human girl, whom he was quite certain hadn't planned on this invasion, watching an American sports game that made no sense at all. Settling himself rather grumpily on the overstuffed couch, he watched for about an hour before he got thoroughly disgusted.

"Tch, all they do is run into each other and fall down, over and over again. And what the hell is a _first down_, anyway...?" Getting to his feet restlessly, Hitsugaya shoved his hands into his jeans pockets and wondered what to do with himself. The clock read a discouraging 2 o'clock, which gave him positively hours to fill. With a sigh and an effortless application of reiatsu, even encapsulated as he was in a gigai, he hopped onto the roof.

"Oiy," an amused voice greeted him almost instantaneously, catching Hitsugaya by surprise. Whirling around, he caught sight of strawberry-colored hair and quickly relaxed.

"What are you doing here, Kurosaki?" Hitsugaya plunked down onto the roof tiles and tried to hide his frustration.

"Rukia babbled something about Matsumoto and some big plan for a 'perfect date' and I figured you might need some male support," Ichigo replied dryly, strolling across the roof and dropping down cross-legged next to him. "Looks like you're in for it, man."

"Bah," Hitsugaya muttered irritably. "I don't understand why everything needs to be such a big production..."

Ichigo snorted. "Welcome to the club. The minute Rukia gets that glint in her eye, I know I'm in for a crapload of drama." Ichigo fell back against the tiles, closing his eyes and resting his head comfortably against his crossed arms. "Just let 'em do their thing...and be sure to notice everything."

"Everything?" Hitsugaya repeated, one eyebrow arching upwards.

"_Everything_," Ichigo reinforced. "Every little detail." One eye squinted open. "And be sure to tell her she's beautiful."

That wouldn't be hard; Matsumoto was _always_ beautiful. Toushirou didn't realize he'd spoken out loud until he heard Ichigo chuckling.

"Yeah, say it just like that. It'll help..._later_." At his smirk, Hitsugaya felt his cheeks warming.

They sat for several long moments in companiable silence before Hitsugaya spoke up again.

"Kuroskai...?"

"Hm?"

"...what's a _first down_?"

"Hrmpf. Damned if I know. I'm a soccer fan."

* * *

"There," Ichigo pronounced solomnly, making a last-minute adjustment to the wide cummerbund. "You're all set."

Hitsugaya fidgited; gigais were uncomfortable enough without being enshrined in such absurd clothing. "Are you sure it's supposed to be this tight?" he growled, tugging at the strange little twist of fabric at his neck.

Ichigo chortled. "No, it's not actually - it's supposed to be tighter. I'm giving you a break here, quit complaining." With a final twitch to correct the mangled bow-tie, Kurosaki pushed him firmly towards the door. "Go get 'em."

Feeling utterly ridiculous, Hitsugaya shot the human a disparaging look before swallowing hard and emerging from the back room.

"Oooh...Hitsugaya-kun. You look very...manly!" Orihime gushed in her adorably awkward way. The flush to his cheeks was instantaneous, his self-consciousness disappearing a heartbeat later as his eyes fell on his fukutaicho.

"Hmm...not bad, if I do say so myself," Matsumoto said appraisingly, her eyes drifting all the way up and down his body. "This Armani guy is definitely worth the money."

Hitsugaya didn't hear a word of it. His deliciously curvy vice-captain was barely clad in a skin-hugging slinky dress that shimmered like a million black diamonds. Every sway of her hips as she glided across the room sent light shattering over the walls; she was so mezmerizing it made his mouth go dry. Completely forgetting that he was thoroughly incommodious in his tuxedo, or that there were other people watching them, he found his hands twitching at his sides as he imagined what her body would feel like through the diaphanous material. "Matsumoto...you look..." A barely-functioning part of his brain supplied the appropriate advice. "You look beautiful," he croaked.

He was rewarded by a brilliant smile. Her hair was falling in loose curls over her shoulders and she had done something to her face that made her cheeks look flushed, her eyes look larger than usual and her lips maddeningly kissable. "Well, then. We make quite the pair." Tossing her luxuraintly shiny hair over her shoulder, Rangiku cast a smoky look at their audience and hooked her arm through his. "Don't wait up for us, kids," she purred as she guided him towards the door.

Hitsguaya was sure he heard someone, who sounded suspiciously like Rukia, snort a laugh as the door closed behind him but he hardly cared. He only had eyes for the glittering vision at his side and barely registered the walk down the stairwall to the street corner, where an improbably long vehicle awaited them. A man with white gloves opened the door and gallantly helped Matsumoto into the limosine. Hitsugaya could barely wait until the door had closed before his hands were on her, his mouth hungrily seeking her soft lips...

Giggling, her hands came up to his chest and she pushed him gently but insistently away. "Not now, Toshi. I have the _perfect_ evening planned, and it's not going to go very well if you tear my dress." He couldn't have possibly disagreed more, but his frustrated growl only made her giggle harder and he found himself in a losing battle for what seemed like ages before the limo finally came to a halt.

Titilated beyond belief, his entire body taut to the point of being painful, Hitsguaya made a last-ditch effort to draw her close. "Stay with me, " he murmered hoarsely into her ear, pressing his hard body against hers. "Don't go..."

Rather feebly, Matsumoto pushed him back and met his heated gaze, her own eyes a dark, seductive azure. Giggling throatily, she said, "Not yet, Toshi. We've got very good seats, and a whole date ahead of us. It won't do to have dessert first..." He was deeply starting to hate the whole 'date' concept, but further argument was impossible as the door opened and the driver obseqiuously cleared his throat. Stifling a growl and trying to get his body to calm down, Toushirou smoothed out his tuxedo and unfolded himself from the confines of the vehicle.

Flashing lights nearly blinded him as he stepped out onto a soft, red carpeting. Turning quickly and hoping to all the gods that his body had, indeed, listened to him and calmed the hell down, he reached back as Matsumoto's soft, strong hand slid into his. As she emerged from the limosine, the night lit up as day as what seemed like a thousand flashes went off behind him, every photographer on the scene trying to get a shot of the ethereal beauty stepping into view. Smiling like a goddess, Matsumoto wrapped her arm through his and grinned for the cameras, gently encouraging him into motion. Guiding her down the carpet amidst a crowd of glittering humans, Hitsugaya tried to keep the absurdly proud look off his face as he escorted her into the enormous building in front of them. He was quite certain that the woman on his arm was the most beautiful creature there by a distant margin and utterly refused to acknowledge any hint of bias.

Still, as much as he enjoyed showing off his incomparable date, he hated having so many people looking at him and couldn't get inside fast enough. Clearing the glass doors, Hitsugaya finally took a breath, leaning into the fragrant crook of her neck to whisper, "Rangiku...where the hell are we?"

Turning her brilliant gaze on him, she smiled. "It's called an 'opera' and it's opening night. Trust me," she winked. "you'll love it!"

The only thing he loved was the feel of her supple body against his, but to his immense frustration she led him into an expansive room full of seats and balconies. The way the space was situated, he wouldn't even be able to get his hands on her inviting softness without dozens of people seeing. Firmly clamping his frustration down, he spoke soothingly to himself as Hyourinmarou chuckled at him..._Relax...it can't take all night...and then you'll be alone_... Schooling himself with every ounce of discipline available to him, Hitsugaya forced himself to settle into his velvet chair and sublimate his overwhelming urges.

An eternity seemed to pass as the seats slowly filled, fat woman dripping in diamonds and wizened old men who smelled funny seating themselves around them. Fixing his gaze firmly on the lush, velour curtain in front of him, Hitsugaya waited for the event to begin and wondered if it was possible for a gigai to spontaneously combust. As the lights finally dimmed and the hushed murmer around them faded into silence, he thanked all the gods in heaven for not drawing out this particular torture beyond what he could bear.

He had never been so wrong in his life.

The room dipped into darkness, the curtains raised, and as colored lights came up on the costumed humans emerging onto the stage they began emitting sounds that were utterly deplorable. It was only a few heartbeats before Hitsugaya decided it would have been vastly preferable to stay at home and listen to the power tools. And that wasn't all; the story made _no_ sense whatsoever, to the point where he actually started to doubt his own brilliant intelligence. There were humans dressed as _birds_ flapping around on stage and he couldn't for the life of him figure out what a magic flute had to do with anything.

It wasn't long before he was downright twitching in his seat, trying not to notice that his tuxedo seemed to be getting tighter and more restrictive by the moment. It didn't help that Matsumoto was sighing, doe-eyed, right along with all the befurred and bejeweled humans around them. As time trickled glacially on, he thought he was doing a pretty decent job of hiding his annoyance until a bloated couple behind him started complaining about how cold it was and wondering how high the air conditioning must be set. At the hoarse whisper, Mastumoto shot him a disparaging look and Hitsugaya tried even harder to dampen his truncated energy. Still, by the time the curtain finally dropped, he breathed a sigh of relief and was forced to admit that even he could see his own breath puffing in front of him.

Following his glittering date into the lobby along with the pressing crowd, Toushirou leaned forward and buried his face into Matsumoto's silky hair. "Okay," he muttered, breathing in her scent. "Where to next?" He was hoping rather desperately that the next thing on the schedule was some alone time somewhere very secluded.

"What are you talking about?" She replied, blinking her enormous blue eyes at him innocently. "That was just the first act."

"The first...act?" he croaked, his skin feeling uncomfortably hot in the crowded lobby.

"Sure," Rangiku chirped back, either oblivious to his discomfort or otherwise ignoring it completely. "There's two more to go..."

With a wordless groan, Hitsugaya grabbed her by the crook of her elbow and whirled her around into a narrow corner, partially hidden by a luxurious, red velvet draping. Dropping his head to meet hers, he let his smoldering aqua eyes fill her vision. "I can't wait any longer," he growled, his hands making fists into the satiny material of her dress, only inches away from tearing it off of her. "Let's go. _Now_."

"Now, Toushirou, what did I say about dessert...?" With a throaty chuckly, Rangiku pulled him further into the alcove. Just as he was about to plant a deep kiss on her, an all-too-familiar sound boomed out right behind them.

"Hitsugaya-taicho." Ukitake Jyushirou's unmistakable voice filled the alcove, sounding like it came from mere inches away from Toushirou's ear. He jumped back as if galvanized, his wide eyes casting wildly about until the smoky silhouette of a hell butterfly detached itself from a deep shadow to flutter in front of his face. Ukitake again: "Pardon the intrusion, but you and your fukutaicho are requested to return immediately to Soul Society and report to the Inner Courts as soon as possible. Priority level 2A." Message delivered, the tiny hell butterfly winked out of existence.

Instantly on full alert, Hitsugaya whirled around to meet his fukutaicho's wide eyes and grabbed her hand. "We're leaving." As he headed swiflty for the front door, he felt Matsumoto hurrying to keep up, grabbing tightly to his arm as Hitsugaya navigated them through the crowd.

"What's wrong? Do you think we're in trouble?" He could feel her worried frown on the back of his head. "You got permission for this, right?"

"Of course I did," he growled, trying very hard not to shove an old female human wearing a dead animal out of his way. It seemed to take forever to get into the limo and drive back to Orihime's house where their soulgate awaited them, Matsumoto looking both worried and deeply disappointed, muttering the whole way about a candlelit dinner and something call a 'jazz club' all going to waste.

* * *

Every single one of Hitsugaya's nerves were on edge as he flashed into the Deep Archives only moments after returning to Soul Society, Matsumoto directly behind him. His hand twiched, palm aching to feel the tight leather of his sword's pommel in its grip, and Hyournmarou shifted restlessly inside him as the pair walked down rows and rows of shelves stuffed full of documents and official files. Reaching the proper section as indicated in their summons, Hitsugaya ground to a halt.

Nothing seemed amiss, aside from the fact that no less than three captains and a full complement of Secret Mobile force agents were milling about the remote end of the vault. Even more surprisingly, Ukitake himself was present, sitting on a pallet on the floor and making notations on something that looked like an archive inventory, all the while struggling against dry, shallow coughs. Predictably, Kyouraku was at his side, looking as if he was torn between being helpful and being protective. At their approach, Ukitake glanced up and caught sight of them, murmering a final low comment to Sui Fon, who nodded curtly and flashed away along with her agents.

"Ah, Hitsugaya-taicho" Ukitake greeted them, his voice strained and painfully frail. "I'm truly sorry for ruining your personal evening, but this matter requires your attention." Raising a hand, he gestured rather weakly towards a shelving unit.

Hitsugaya peered down the indicated aisle, shelves and shelves of sealed bins meeting his gaze. Everything seemed to be in perfect order. "What am I looking at, Ukitake-taicho?"

Shunsui snorted, earning him a tiny glare from Ukitake. "I know it doesn't look like anything, but that's part of the problem. Someone has been in here. Several files are missing, nothing exactly top-secret but definitely high-level information. Not only were the files taken but they were removed in a way that was meant for it to look like nothing had been disturbed." Ukitake's brown eyes were abnormally hard. "Someone snuck past security, knew exactly what they wanted and how to get it, and covered their tracks admirably."

Matsumoto stirred behind him and Hitsugaya couldn't help sharing her confusion. "I'm sorry...this is certainly alarming but I don't understand what it has to do with us."

"This section houses detailed records of all of our squads, this shelf specifically covering a period of about the last 20 years. Most of the squad containers were untouched." Shunsui supplied, his jovial face unusually serious. Hooded eyes peered out from under the wide brim of his hat as he continued quietly. "The only squad files they took were of the Tenth," his gaze slid past Hitsugaya to meet Matsumoto's steel grey eyes, "and the Third."

Hitsugaya felt himself go inexplicably cold, a strange sense of deja vu sweeping over him. He felt the same disquiet as he had that morning at the Academy, the prickly feeling of being watched. Hair standing on end, he frowned deeply. "You said they were detailed records - how detailed?"

"Personnel information, shinigami profiles, housing assignments, inside reports from other captains regarding their insights on staff and squad functions..." Ukitake broke off into a shuddering cough. "Everything." he weezed, as Shunsui dropped down to his heels at the pale captain's side. Looking carefully into Ukitake's face, Shunsui's lips tightened and he expertly started gathering his friend up into his strong arms.

"The information itself is rather benign, but there's no indication whatsoever as to why it was taken, or what purpose it is meant to serve." Giving them a serious look, Shunsui drew on his reiatsu. "We'll let you know when we find out anything more, but for now be on alert. What with the rumours building in Rukongai, there's no telling exactly what is going on." With that, and at yet another rough hack from Ukitake, both men quickly disappeared.

Leaving Hitsugaya and Matsumoto staring at each other in varying degrees of confusion. Looking thoughtful and slightly angry, Matsumoto glided down the aisle, her hand drifting absently along the containers. "It doesn't make any sense. Why would anyone want information about our squads?"

Despite his disquiet, Hitsugaya felt a tiny, swift smile curl his lips; she did that occasionally, randomly referring to the Third in the possessive. He doubted she noticed, and he never brought it to her attention for fear of being too pushy, but he found it a promising indication of things to come. "I don't know..." Lost in thought, Hitsugaya was working up a professional grade frown when a stir next to him pulled him out of his contemplation. He glanced at Matsumoto and saw an oddly strained look on her face. "What is it?"

"Shunsui-kun said something about rumours in Rukongai. What did he mean by that?" No stranger to damaging rumors, she already looked more than a little upset.

Hitsugaya swallowed; she wasn't going to like this. "Sui Fon mentioned that there seems to be a rumor going around about...Ichimaru." Even after all the time that had passed, he couldn't say the name without his voice grating.

Dozens of emotions spilled across Rangiku's face. "A rumor, huh?" She was quiet for a moment. "What are they saying?"

She'd only be madder if he witheld the truth. "That he was Aizen's pawn and murdered in innocence."

"Ha!" she laughed, suprising him. Running her fingers through her hair, her face settled into dry irony. "So I'm a drunken whore murderess now, is it? Figures." A wry chuckle issued out of her before she turned a hard look at him. "Why didn't you tell me sooner?" Rangiku didn't look mad, exactly, but he knew too well that that could change in a heartbeat.

"I didn't know it was important." Toushirou replied lamely, if truthfully. "I only heard about it this morning, and then you came to get me for our date..."

Topping off her tumultuous emotions, bitter disappointment took its turn dominating her expression. "Yeah," Matsumoto muttered angrily, "just add that to the list of things he's ruined." Turning on her heel and refusing to meet Hitsugaya's gaze, she trudged off. "I'll see you at home."

* * *

As the moon slowly lumbered across the sky above her, Rangiku was finally forced to admit to herself that she was moping. Which, while that could be decidedly useful in the proper application, when employed while one was sitting alone in the dark on an empty rooftop did little more than to foster a bad mood with a side dose of self-indulgent helplessness. When a cool breeze swept across her back, she quickly scrubbed the tears off her face.

"I don't want to talk about it, Toshi."

"I know. You don't have to." The low, rich voice she loved so dearly sent a tingle down her spine, and moments later strong arms were wrapping around her shoulders. "I'm sorry about the 'date'."

Chuckling bitterly, she craned her neck around to meet wide, stunningly green eyes. "No, you're not. Admit it, you _hated_ the opera. Don't tell me you weren't happy to get called back."

Hitsugaya nuzzled his nose behind her ear and lightly kissed the lobe. "I hated the opera," he admitted, which made her flush with moody remorse. "But I'm not happy that your perfect date got ruined. Which is why I am not going to let you sit here alone and dwell on it." Getting to his feet, he reached out a hand to help her after him. "Come with me."

Matsumoto wasn't ready to let go of her bad mood just yet. "Not now, Toushirou. I just want to be left alone..." she grumped. She was determined to keep stewing; after all, it wasn't fair that he got the corner on irritable, and she was determined to have her fair share.

A patient sigh. "Fine. Come with me, Matsumoto-fukutaicho. That's an order."

Dammit, now she had no choice. She hated it when he pulled rank. And by 'hated it' she meant, of course, found it deliciously sexy. Rising to her feet on her own, Rangiku turned and crossed her arms, throwing him a mild glare which was deftly ignored as he pulled her into his arms.

"Close your eyes," her captain said, and when she hesitated he got that look on his face like he was preparing to issue another order. Relenting, she slid her eyes shut and let him flash her blindly away.

Feeling them settle to a halt, she opened her eyes as Toushirou pulled away and swept around behind her. Despite her depression, Rangiku's lips twitched as she took in the moonlit training glen surrounded by shadowy trees. Hitsugaya knew damn well how to wear down her resistence, knew that she couldn't come here without thinking about their first kiss, the day he showed her the way back to herself. Trying to tell herself that he wasn't going to win her over that easily, she turned slightly and caught her breath.

Toushirou was standing with that slight awkwardness she adored next to his favorite rock. Spread across it was his white captain's haori, and spread across that were two small dishes. A candle burned between them and in the minute, shifting light she could see a small, determined grin on his face.

"It's not exactly opera, but..." Scrunching up his shoulders, he looked as if she was waiting for her to grumble at him again.

As if she was about to do anything but melt. Slowly looking over the rock, Rangiku took in the cream-colored wedges covered in red fruit on the plates and she threw Toushriou a curious look.

"Cheesecake,"" he proffered. "I know it's not much, but I've heard great things about it..." He silently thanked Ichigo for all the advice he'd gotten on the rooftop earlier that day.

"Oh, Toshi," she murmered, finally letting a soft smile come to her face. Looking at her adorable captain, standing in the moonlight next to their little rustic table-for-two, she felt her heart start to speed up. "It's _perfect_." Walking slowly towards him in a way that she knew drove him crazy, Rangiku let her voice drop. "Looks like we get to have dessert after all."

"It's the best part, really," Hitsugaya supplied, watching her approach with a hungry look in his eyes.

Plucking at her squad robes, she looked apologetic. "But I'm not wearing my very pretty dress..."

Reaching out and grabbing her waist, he pulled her roughly into him. "You wouldn't have been wearing it much longer anyway," he mummered a hair's breadth away from her lips.

As they fell onto the soft grass, Matsumoto absently wondered if cheesecake would work just as well for breakfast.


	5. Down the Rabbit Hole

The sun felt deliciously warm on Hitsugaya's face, a fragrant Indian-summer breeze drifting lazily over him and teasing the stray ends of his white hair. Eyes closed, hands crossed behind his head, he breathed in the intoxicating aroma of grass and earth, letting the golden rays soak into his aching muscles and soothe away any lingering tension. The training session had been particularly taxing today; riding on the gentle winds was the merest hint of coolness, a promise of chill weather on the cusp of breaking, whispering of the change of season right around the corner. There was a latent electricity in the air and Hitsugaya hadn't been immune to the effect. The crispness of fall never failed to awaken a bone-deep energy in him, his spirit body responding in some unfathomable way to the coming winter, and his bankai had been more feisty than he'd expected. A fact that had not been lost on his sparring partner; as always, she'd risen to the challenge, and the passion and energy with which she approached everything he threw at her had had the blood singing in his veins. The result had been lengthy, brutal and thoroughly delightful.

Now they were enjoying some well-deserved rest, as lazily curled up together as were their spirit manifestations only a short distance away. While soul slayers typically regarded each other with respectful rivalry at best and scathing suspicion at worst, for two manifestations to be so completely at ease with each other was nearly unheard of. Hyourinmarou had wrapped himself tightly around Hitsugaya's favorite rock and Heineko was splayed out like a huge, langorous house-cat along his icy coils, purring up a storm. While not without precedent, Hitsugaya knew of only one other set of zanpaktous that got along so well together and it was the wielder of one of them who was largely responsible for the sympatico the leaders of Tenth squad were fortunate enough to enjoy.

"Toushiro?"

"Hmmm?" he hummed, the barest of smiles on his face; going by the deep, languid tone of Rangiku's voice, he could tell she was every bit as drugged by the golden afternoon as he was. He could feel her voice vibrating deep within him as she spoke again into his chest.

"I think it's time."

Slowly, his eyes opened, a somber aire stealing into his mood. He let the words hang over them for a long moment; he felt something deep within him shift. Something...settled, and at the same time a thrill of joy and fear and several other things he couldn't sort out washed through him. He moved slightly, tilting his chin down to look the the top of her head. Matsumoto was draped along the ground next to him, one arm thrown lazily over his stomach while her head rested on his chest. She was looking away from him, down along his long, lean body towards the river. The sun was hanging low in the sky, its angled rays glittering across the surface of the water. Feeling him shift, she turned to look at him, her blue eyes smoldering with a quiet determination.

"Are you sure?" he asked gently.

The sunlight bouncing off the river behind her gave her a glittering halo of fiery facets. He gazed deeply into those ice blue eyes, his own aqua ones searching. Her expression was soft, unguarded. Strong. And though he searched for shadows of doubt in her he could find none. If eyes are the windows to the soul then hers were wide open and he saw only peace within her. His hand reached up to smooth the back of her head, the silky feel of her hair slipping through his cool fingers.

Gods, she took his breath away.

He broke the gaze before he could go mad, before his feelings could rise up and overwhelm him. Pulling her towards him, he gently kissed her forehead, drawing her into a tight embrace and letting her head settle against the crook of his neck, just the way he knew she liked. Another moment passed before he murmered into her hair.

"When?"

"Now," she replied, her breath hot on his neck, a shiver of nerves and anticipation running through her as she gripped him tightly in return. "Right now."

* * *

Hitsugaya was fidgiting. 

Standing outside Yamamoto-sutaicho's receiving chambers, he threw yet another glare at the closed door and shifted his weight again. _Why did Yamamoto-dono agree to see us right away if only to make us...make _her _wait_? Hitsugaya fought a growl and forced the correction. This was, after all, about Matsumoto and nothing else mattered. Which was probably why he was being so defensive. She had waited so long for this, waited until she had her own reasons for making this decision, and he was angered that she was now, after all this time, being forced to wait.

Not that she seemed to mind. She was leaning against the wall on the other side of the hallway, hands behind her back, staring absently down at the marble floor. Her eyes were slightly glazed over, lost in thought, and as much as it unsettled Hitsugaya when she retreated into herself like that he had to grant her some introspection at a time like this. If there was any lingering doubt, any hesitation, best she discover it now rather then in the presence of Yamamoto-dono, where it would only reflect poorly on her.

_Assuming he ever lets her in_... Another glare at the door.

"Hitsugaya Toushirou, you've got to relax or you're going to make me nervous." He glanced over at his fukutaicho to see a wry smile playing across her lips. "I've waited over a decade, a few more minutes isn't going to kill me."

Hitsugaya returned the smile with a dash of bashfulness. "Sorry," he muttered. "I just don't understand what could possibly be more important..."

Her smile widened, the calm, quiet confidence in her gaze making his breath catch, but before she could speak the door swung open. To both their surprise, Sasakibe emerged, escorting a very agitated Kurotsuchi Mayuri.

"I can assure you that the Captain-Commander is _not_ taking your situation lightly," Sasakibe was proffering a spluttering Mayuri. "He will do everything necessary to investigate the matter thoroughly..."

"It's not a 'situation', you pompous ass! This is a security breach of the highest order and it is being brushed aside-!" Mayuri, known for being disconcertingly passionate at times, was practically shouting.

"It is not 'brushing aside' when we are limited in our response due to your staunch refusal to describe exactly what was taken..." Sasakibe cut him off but Mayuri seemed not to notice, riding right over him.

"_That would be an even greater security breach_! It is the right of the Twelfth to keep certain facets of our work from the general public-!!"

"Than I would suggest not shouting about it in the hallways." Sasakibe replied firmly, glancing towards either side of the entryway and throwing a poignant glare at the flustered captain.

Mayuri halted, breathing slightly faster than normal and seeming to notice for the first time the two other shinigami sharing the hall. With a murderous glare at all three of them, he growled fit to bite Sasakibe's head off. "Be so kind as to tell Yamamoto-dono that I would like the next available audience to further discuss the matter, after he is done indulging the whims of children." Turning on his heel, he stalked off.

Sasakibe watched him leave, his face a thundercloud, before turning to address them. "Hitsugaya-taicho, I cannot apologize enough for that disgraceful scene, or for your unexpected delay," he said solomnly, turning to offer a tiny bow to Matsumoto. "Matsumoto Rangiku, the Captain-Commander will see you now." Offering a final apologetic look, he swept back into the room, leaving the door open behind him.

Taking a deep breath and offering Toushirou a brilliant smile full of nervous energy, she reached out her hands. "This is it."

He grasped them, sqeezing tightly for a moment before letting her go and taking a step back. "I'll be waiting back at our...at _my_ office." Offering her his most encouraging possible grin, he watched her stiffen her back, turn slowly and march, undeterred, into the receiving chambers.

* * *

Hitsugaya had never been more ansty in his entire life. He was wearing a groove into the floor of his administrative office, unable to sit still for more than a minute or two. He'd tried to settle down, tried to distract himself with the eternal stack of paperwork on his desk, but would find himself anxiously fidgiting after just a few moments and before too long his nervous hands had botched so many kanji and subsequently rendered so many reports useless that he'd given up entirely. 

Hyourinmarou chuckled silently at him as he made yet another ungainly lap around his office, stopping to peer out the window into the growing gloom. Which, truthfully, was less than useless; anyone approaching the building would not be doing it from the east, so as far as monitoring purposes went it was an exercise in futility. He could feel his teeth starting to ache, the familiar vein throbbing in his temple, and with little else to do he turned his frustration onto his icy friend.

_Would you shut up, you old coot?_ Hitsugaya growled silently at the ice dragon. _She should have been back by now_...

His frayed temper only tickled the beast further. _You are worrying too much. Nothing has gone amiss_. The dragon rose up enough that fiery pinpoints burned in Hitsugaya's mind's eye. _For her there is no test to fail. She has already met the requirements_.

"She could still be denied," Toushirou said outloud, unwilling to be assuaged. "Yamamoto-sutaicho could decide that she is not fit to lead. I mean, she still drinks like a fish, she can't do paperwork worth a damn and she's out partying as often as..." ..._well, hell, Shunsui for that matter._ Refusing to be side-tracked, he ground his teeeth. A muscle in his jaw twitched as a dozen other arguments bubbled up inside him, fueling his doubt.

_A decision that would have been made years ago, if it warranted any merit_. Hyourinmarou's mirth quieted and the burning eyes in his head were starting to blaze. _You are being unreasonable_.

"She could have changed her mind," he muttered stubbornly, imagining her hiding, afraid to face him

The eyes were laughing again. _And when have we_ ever _known that woman to back down once she has her mind set on something?_

At that Hitsugaya had no response, preoccupied as he was with fighting the flush that threatened to rise to his cheeks. A loud noise in the hallway made him nearly jump out of his skin and in an instant he had popped out of shunpo at his doorway, staring like a madman at a more than terrified novice. Muttering an apology, he ducked back into his office, losing the battle for composure entirely as his face fairly glowed in mortification.

_What the hell is wrong with me? I might as well be an adolescent all over again_... He stalked angrily across the room, refusing to follow that train of thought. Throwing himself into his chair, he stubbornly attacked yet another form. It was only when he realized he was gazing forlornly out the window again and his hand, frozen in mid-air holding a loaded writing utensil, was dripping yet another amorphous blob onto a ruined piece of paper that he plunged his head into his hands and let out a brief howl of frustration. A cylindrical object peeking out from the mountain of papers on the vice-captain's desk caught his eye and he found himself actually wondering if a shot of sake would calm him down. Then a low voice from the entranceway nearly undid him.

"Hitsugaya-taicho."

He whipped his head around. Matsumoto was standing in the doorway, wearing her regular black hakama, slouching against the doorframe as if it was the only thing holding her up. Her face was lost in shadows as the light poured in from the hallway behind her. One arm was crooked, her hand resting on her shoulder and disappearing into her hair. Hitsugaya surged to his feet, trying to read the enigmatic look on her face.

"Rangi-" he faltered, trying desperately to understand what he was seeing. His lungs felt like they were being sqeezed and he felt a leaden sensation seeping into his extremities. Despite himself, his stomach was sinking. "What happened? Did he-...?"

His words ground to a halt as she slowly drew her hand off her shoulder, bringing it in front of her and swinging around a gleaming swatch of fabric, dangling it from the crook of her finger. Dumbstruck, he stared at the white haori as if he'd never seen one before. Jaw hanging open, Hitsugaya raised his wide eyes to meet hers and by now a slow, wicked smile had crept onto her face. The sparkle in her eyes made his pulse race and he felt an answering joy flooding his own face. Straightening up, he slowly walked around the desk and stopped a few feet away from her. Aqua eyes danced as he slowly executed a military bow with easy perfection.

"Matsumoto-_taicho_." Straightening up, he saw her eyes were also dancing, a smoky, mischievous look coming into them. He found it extremely difficult to keep his formal posture when she was looking at him like that.

"You know," she drawled, "You don't hve to look _quite_ so surprised. I might start to wonder about your faith in me..." That coy, heated stare was intoxicating and in a heartbeat he was standing in front of her, kissing her upturned lips.

"Never," he breathed into her smile, "_ever_, wonder about that." Their eyes were locked together, barely an inch apart. Taking her hands, he drew her into the office, sliding the door shut firmly behind them. Laughing, she traipsed across the room, twirling her new captain's attire around her like a giddy little girl.

Hitsugaya couldn't keep the stupid grin off his face. "Why haven't you put it on yet? Gods know you've earned it." He felt heady with delight and for some reason didn't know what to do with himself, his hands twitching at his sides.

Swirling to a halt on the other side of the room, she looked at him with darkened eyes, her eyelashes fluttering dangerously. "Oh, I don't know. I had the funny feeling I'd be taking it right...back...off again..." she teased, her voice dropping seductively. Casually leaning over to lay her prized posession across the couch, she left little to the imagination as her kimono slipped open just a hair further.

He never could figure out how she did that; she seemed to not only have the power to make her clothing shift or stay put on a whim, but just the right application of either could render him mad with desire in less time than it took him to freeze a popsicle. Unbidden images in mind, he didn't even bother crossing the room, taking it in one quick flash and hungrily planting his lips on hers. With a kittenish growl, she clutched his arms, both of them losing their balance in the frenzy and falling in a somewhat inelegant tangle up against the vice-captain's desk.

"You know," she whispered hotly into his mouth, "I won't be needing this desk anymore." Grabbing his hair, she pulled him back just enough to look into his eyes, her dialated pupils and hooded lids deepening her eye color into a cobalt blue he found intoxicating. "I wonder what other uses we could find for it..."

As if he needed any more encouragement. With one half-formed thought, a chill breeze rose up out of nowhere and in a cloud of erupting paperwork the desk was, for once, cleared off. RAngiku slid onto it as he leaned in to her, planting a series of feverish kisses down her neck.

"Mmmm, you know what I want?" she murmered. Leaning her head down, she tickled his ear with her lips.

"Hm?" he grunted absently, groping somewhat frantically at her belt and wondering why the damn thing wasn't untying itself. Insistantly, she nuzzled at his face until he looked up at her.

"If I ask for _anything_ I want, will I get it?" Her eyes got impossibly wide and if he was any less inflamed he would have noticed the all-too-innocent look on her face.

"Anything, Rangiku." His voice was starting to get hoarse and her god-forsaken kimono was still in the way. "You name it."

"Proooomise?" She purred.

"Yes, I promise!" A frown was starting to cross his face and he was getting the distinct impression that her clothing was deliberately thwarting him.

With a delighted squeal, Rangiku somehow slipped out of his arms and was gone in the blink of an eye, leaving him taut and speechless. He stared at his empty hands for a moment as if they belonged to someone else, finally twisting around to see where she'd disappeared to. "Rangiku, what...?"

She was standing by the couch, slipping her captain's haori on and looking at herself with deep satisfaction. Completely unfazed and acting as if they hadn't just been seconds away from molesting the furniture, she regarded him with a look that he had come to recognize over the years as indicating that he had just lost any ability to make a decision.

"I want to celebrate!"

* * *

Which is how Hitsugaya Toushirou, captain of the Tenth squad, found himself sitting alone in a corner of the most popular pub in Sereitei, arms crossed, glaring up a fit and nursing a mountain of sexual frustration. Not to mention suffering the greatest of all possible humiliations: 

His swimming head told him in no uncertain terms that he was well on his way to intoxicated.

_How the hell did I get myself into this?_ he wondered, not for the first time that evening...

x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x

The night had started out promisingly enough. By the time Matsumoto had finally convinced him that his promise of anything meant, well, _anything_, she had dragged him and all his ragingly unsatsified hormones out of the office. At which point he was pretty much ready to kill someone. It was only her assurances that it was early and no one of consequence would be out drinking just after sunset, together with his damning promise, that found him pulled reluctantly into the pub. He had admittedly and foolishly felt a rush of relief at his first glance around the establishment; it seemed his siren had been telling the truth and the place was virtually empty. Shrugging uncomfortably, he had hovered by the door. Hitsugaya had never set foot inside a bar before, mainly on principle, and he was more than slightly upset to be breaking his tradition now. Swallowing his pride, he told himself that this was Matsumoto's day and she had certainly earned her right to enjoy it any way she liked, as he assiduously tried to set aside his unease.

Matsumoto, for her part, strode through the room as if she owned the place; hell, she probably did, due to her frequent patronage. Her quick pace had her white haori flaring out behind her as she closed in on the bartender, who had just emerged from the back room and looked up at her approach.

"Ah, Matsumoto-san, you're getting an early start..." He began jovially, only to stop in his tracks, falling silent with a strangling sound. The jolting sound of glass shattering on the floor jerked the few patrons around as the bartender took in Matsumoto's attire. After a moment of silent gaping, he bowed formally from behind the counter, finally speaking in a tone of deep reverence, "_Matsumoto-taicho_." As she finished her approach and swirled to a halt in front of him, he slowly looked up, a feisty grin creeping onto his expression. "Well, it's about damn time, sir."

"You can drop the 'sir', but as the gods are my witness you better not be dropping any more bottles. I dare say we'll be needing _all_ of them before the night is over." A demonic grin on her face, Matsumoto pulled a sake cup out of her kimono, slamming it down on the bar. "Line 'em up - _compliments of Third squad_." Whirling around to the few lonely cheers that rang out at her proclamation, she gave Toushirou a look that was positively evil. "_Everyone_ drinks tonight."

Hitsugaya wanted to sink into the floor. _Maybe I can keep it down to just a cup or two_, he thought desperately and wondered if he would be able to get away with dumping his portion out onto the floor when she got too drunk to notice. _At least there's no one here to witness this_...

A rush of wind and tidal wave of reiatsu at his back was the only warning he got before the door flew open behind him.

"Ran-san!!! I just heard..." Shunsui ground to a halt, a surprisingly somber look stretched across his face as he took in her new garb. Shaking his head, he rumbled dolorously. "Too bad. Jyushirou will be so disappointed..."

A bewildered frown twisted across her brow. "Disappointed? What do you mean-"

"He won't be the prettiest one at captain's meetings anymore," Shunsui quirked, a delighted smile finally breaking out. "He'll be downright crushed."

Throwing her head back and laughing, Matsumoto grabbed a sake bottle from the bartender and whipped it at the pink-garbed captain, who caught it expertly. "Get started, my friend. Before the sun rises, I intend to ring up a bill that will put even the Eighth to shame..."

Things had gone downhill from there. Nanao-chan had appeared only moments behind her captain, squealing and hugging Matsumoto in a manner that was completely uncharacteristic of her. Isane showed up as well, properly admiring the new haori and laughing like a little girl. Renji made quite an entrance of his own, picking Matsumoto up and swirling her around in a way that made Hitsugaya grit his teeth, Rukia right behind him and chattering away a mile a minute. Hisagi made a toast which Hitsugaya deftly avoided by pretending to tie his sandal, and even Unohana stopped in for a minute to deliver a placid but heartfelt congratulations, disappearing early and no doubt returning to Fourth squad in preparation for a rash of hangovers tomorrow. The Fifth squad arrived on the scene with a swagger that only intensified with the arrival of the Eleventh and Hitsugaya thought it a near-miracle that Ikkaku-taicho and Zaraki-taicho didn't start a duel right then and there. They were determined to engage in a battle of the bottle instead and as the night drew on they seemed to be giving even Matsumoto and Shunsui a run for their money. Yachiru even got in on some of the action, sitting on the bar to the barkeep's intense dismay and spending far more time laughing at the way her champagne was tickling her nose than she did drinking it.

All in all, the promised night of quiet celebration turned into a chaotic circus in less than an hour and Hitsugaya did his best to shrink out of sight. He thought he was managing to avoid the obnoxious party quite well, getting at least another hour into the revelry without disgracing himself with a drink, when Matsumoto suddenly materialized in front of him.

Leaning across the table in a way that was practically pornographic, she smiled at him brilliantly. "Kiss me!"

His face instantly caught fire as the room erupted in hoots and hollars. He knew that it wasn't entirely a secret that they were together but he had refused to engage in any public displays of affection as long as she was technically his subordinate. Which, of course, was moot now but he had no intentions whatsoever of making their relationship public under these circumstances. Hating the way everyone was looking at him expectantly and shooting Matsumoto a look of pure murder, he managed to strangle an embarrased, "_No_!"

She pouted slightly, then her face leapt up into a mischievous smile. "Kiss me," she insisted, planting a brimming sake cup on the table in front of him, "..._or drink_."

The loud rushing in his ears nearly drowned out the appreciative roar of the crowd and he felt like his head was going to explode. As if the torment in the office earlier wasn't bad enough, this was intolerable, and he half-gathered his reiatsu for a hurried escape. "_Matsumoto_..."

Leaning in until her nose was practically touching his, she suddenly gave him a look that was serious as death. "_Anything_, Toushirou," she hissed quietly. "You _promised_."

He was trapped and she knew it. Refusing to give her the satisfaction, he let steel form behind his eyes. Slowly, he leaned forward, watched her eyelids hood over and her lips start to pucker as he got closer, his lips barely an inch from hers...

She jumped as his hand brushed her chin, as the cool rim of the sake cup came up between them. With a stubborn look fit to freeze the room, he raised the tiny cup to his lips and tossed back the drink.

x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x

That had been at several hours ago at least. Or more. Possibly less, he couldn't tell; it was getting remarkably difficult to keep track of the time.

Thankfully, the glee of the crowd at Matsumoto's called bluff had helped mask the fact that he had fought desperately not to choke as the fiery liquid seared the back of his throat and brought instant tears to his eyes. Mastumoto looked furious for one satisfying instant, but then she threw back her head and laughed, launching herself across the table to throw a signature hug around him. A moment later, she was pulled back into the crowd and had started a drinking game with Shunsui. He felt slightly grateful to Shunsui for the distraction but Mastumoto still broke free every once in a while and put him to the test again.

"Kiss me or drink!"

"_No_." That stupid cup never seemed to be empty...

As much as he loathed every singe drop of liquid that slid down his throat, he was dammed if he was going to kiss her in the middle of a drunken crowd and as the night wore on he was begrudgingly forced to admit to himself that the fiery brew was getting easier to swallow with each face-off. Of course, that was probably part of the problem...

"Well," A shout rose over the raucous crowd as Matsumoto commanded the attention of all the revelers. She lazered Hitsugaya with a mischievously determined look as she continued to address the crowd. "Since my _very_ polite request for a celebration kiss has gone unrequited and the night is no longer young, it seems I will have to broaden the field a bit." Gancing around the room as knowing chuckles started to spring up, she announced, "Let's play a game! Whoever does the best job of dancing with me gets rewarded with a kiss!"

The eager roaring and laughing of the crowd was lost on Hitsugaya as he seethed in fury. _This is going too far_, he fumed silently, unable to decide which of the three Matsumotos swimming blurrily before him he should be glaring at. Still, the rest of the pub seemed completely oblivious to his frustration as chairs and tables were shoved aside and musical instruments appeared out of nowhere. Striking up a jaunty tune, Shunsui emitted risque lyrics in an overly-loud and rather off-key voice, Matsumoto bowed gracefully to her first partner and they started whirling around the room. Renji, Ikkaku, Shunsui, Yumichika...even Zaraki took a turn, and each partner that had a chance to put their hands around her slender waist made Hitsugaya want to commit a heinous crime.

He never knew what made him do it. She was dancing around the center of the room to the lively music, swirling faster and faster, jumping from partner to partner; her hair was flying, her feet were barely touching the ground, and there was light flashing in her blue eyes...

_Gods, she was beautiful_.

Suddenly he was standing among the ring of dancers, and as she twirled out of Shunsui's arms she swung right into Toushirou's. Throwing one hand around her waist and bringing the other one up to cup the back of her head, he pulled her into him and kissed her full on the mouth, right in front of everyone.

The room fell silent, stunned. When the roar finally came he didn't even hear it over the rushing in his ears. The room tilted, and his eyes flew open groggily as he struggled for equilibrium; his vision didn't seem to want to focus on anything. In an instant her strong arms steadied him and pulling back slightly she looked into his watery face with a flash of conern that quickly deepened.

"Aw, shit," she muttered, tightening her grip on him and _flashing_.

The roar of the pub was gone instantly but the dizziness intensified as he clutched onto her for dear life. Trying to figure out which of the two sets of blue eyes floating in front of him he should look into, he slurred, "Matsumoto...looks like I win." And then he promptly threw up.

Matsumoto would have downright hated herself if it wasn't so damn funny.

"Oh, Toshi, gods forbid...I mean, I figured you for a lightweight but honestly..." He'd only had five. She knew that for a fact - she'd been counting. How the hell was she supposed to know that would get him so tanked...?

"I'm sorry," he muttered, staring in dismay at the sick-up on her brand new haori. "I think I feel better now," he managed before slumping over onto the bed and instantly falling asleep.

It was so awful she wanted to crack up. Her whole glorious plan of torture and reward (and she'd had _such_ a delicious reward in mind) was now ruined, all because her stubborn, wonderful Toushirou had called her bluff and gotten himself sloshed. She sighed, knowing full well that she should have known better.

"No, Toushirou - _I'm_ sorry. This is all my fault." Removing her stained haori, she cleaned up the mess and got a cool washcloth for his forehead. Getting him out of his clothes was a fitting punishment for the torture she's put him through earlier and it was only principle that made her settle in next to him and wait for him to regain his senses before she could relieve both their frustration. Stewing in her own juices, she fell asleep next to him.

* * *

A sloshen mumble sometime later sanpped her awake. It took her a long moment to realize he'd spoken and an even longer one to figure out what he'd said. 

_Did he just say what I think he said_...? She mused groggily.

The question went unanswered as a soft snore emitted from him and with a small smile Rangiku snuggled in tighter and drifted back to sleep.

_I love you, too, Toushirou..._

* * *

A sudden lurch of the bed jerked Toushirou awake. 

"Did you feel that...?" he muttered in confusion. It had felt like the whole room shifted, almost like one of those earthquake things that occurred in the real world. It was only an instant and then it was gone, leaving Hitsugaya quickly letting out a pained groan. The sun streaming in the window was trying to split his head in two. He felt utterly miserable; his head felt like it was stuffed with cotton that was barely muting the chainsaw ripping through it and his body felt like lead. The nauseating taste of stale alcohol was on his lips and his stomach twisted into knots. At his miserable grunt, he felt a stirring at his back.

"Feel what...? Are you okay?" came a sleepy mutter.

"No," he growled. "I do - NOT - feel okay," he spoke through gritted teeth, hoping he wouldn't be sick again. "What the hell did you do to me last night?"

"What do you mean? We didn't do anything last night. We ate watermelon and went to bed," came the mufled reply. An arm snaked around his chest and held him tight.

He barked a short laugh, his lurching stomach making him wish he hadn't. "Don't act coy; we were drinking half the night, which was YOUR idea..."

An answering giggled reverberated through his back. "I never drink, Shirou-chan."

"You drink all the time!" He wanted to shout but it hurt his head. "What's gotten into you?" Ice slid into his veins. "And..._what did you just call me_?" Something was wrong with her voice and he looked down, baffled, at a hand that was too slender, fingers too delicate. Twisting painfully around, he caught sight of dark hair spilled over the pillow, saw sleepy violet eyes meet his...

And then he was falling out of the bed, pushing away as if a live Hollow were in the bed next to him. Crabwalking beackwards along the floor, he flew across the room until the wall slammed into the back of his already-agonized head.

He barely registered the pain. _I'm still drunk_, he thought desperately. _I must still be drunk...this_ has _to be a dream_...

"Shirou-chan, you're being very silly and it's starting to feel mean." Wide eyes stared at him and tears seemed to be on the edge of forming. "Now will you get back to bed? You're not even dressed..."

He couldn't believe what he was seeing. It was impossible. Utterly impossible. Out of his raw throat, he croaked out a single word.

"_Hi-...HINAMORI??"_


	6. The Pool of Tears

"Shirou-chan, whatever is the matter? You look as though you've seen a ghost."

_This can't be happening…..this can't be real_….

An eternity seemed to pass before Hitsugaya could draw air into his burning lungs. When he did, he could hardly even say the name. "Hina-mori..._what the hell is going on_?" Hitsugaya felt like his eyes were going to fall out of his heavily-thumping head.

"You mean besides you leaping out of bed like a crazy person?" A small frown was creasing through her bewildered expression. "I…don't know. Did you have another one of your bad dreams?" Concern started to deepen her eye color.

"I'm pretty damn sure I'm having one right now," he grated. His hands were shaking and something in his chest hurt worse than his head.

"Well, that's a really mean thing to say," Hinamori replied, tears springing readily to her eyes. "You act as if you've never seen me before."

"Oh, I've seen you before," he murmered hoarsely_. I watched you die_...

"Well, you hit your head, looks like. Here, let me see…." She slid out of the bed, padding across the room wearing only a thin garment, clucking in concern and reaching for his head.

If she touched him, he knew he would go mad. Going on pure instinct, Hitsugaya reached for a wave of reiatsu to freeze her in her tracks….

_Nothing_. No wave of power. No coiled ice dragon. Not even the tiniest stir of breeze. Silently, he screamed, _Hyourinmarou!!_ No answer. In shock, he realized the dragon wasn't ignoring him; he was gone completely. Toushirou's chest felt agonizingly hollow and in that instant he felt completely and utterly alone.

The horrified look on his face did the trick, though, halting Hinamori before she reached him. "Shirou-chan…..what-?"

He buried his hands in his hair, trying not to pull it out by its white roots. "Hinamori." His power might be inexplicably unavailable but it didn't keep the bone-chilling ice out of his voice. "If you call me that again, I swear," he looked up at her through his fingers. "I will kill you with my bare hands."

Her eyes got wide as saucers, the tears that shimmered in them threatening to fall. "W-what do you want me to call you…?"

"Goddammit, I am Hitsugaya-taicho, to you or anyone else! Wait," he broke off, feeling like he was slowly unraveling. "Don't call me _anything_!! How can you even _be_ here!?" He was fairly shouting, making her jump as tears finally slid down her cheeks.

"We….live here," she murmured tremulously. "Don't you remember…?"

"_Remember_!?" _I_ _remember your execution, goddammit_. "What in the name of all the gods are you talking about!?!" Hitsguaya's head was swimming and he was pretty sure he was going to throw up again. A sound hiccoughed out of him, something between a chuckle and a sob. "You're supposed to be _dead_…"

The tears flowed more freely. "Why are you being so cruel?" she asked softly. "We're lucky _any_ of us are alive, you know that."

The sound was coming out of him harder now and even he couldn't ignore the edge of hysteria in it. "I don't know what you're talking about, or what's going on, or where I am…" He finally got a look around the room, eyes darting about swiftly; this wasn't his captain's chambers. The narrow walls were stained and peeling, the pallet threadbare. He suddenly remembered that he wasn't wearing anything. "Will you throw me some clothes, goddammit?" Meekly, Hinamori tossed him a wrinkled outfit made of rough, patchy wool. He threw the clothes on, wincing as he pulled the tunic over his head and fingering what was promising to be a sizeable bruise. He was starting to shake all over.

The pained motion didn't go unnoticed. "Oh!" Relief simmered in Hinamori's voice. "You did hit your head awfully hard…maybe you've got some kind of memory loss!" A watery smile lit up her face as she reached for him, followed by a flash of hurt as he jerked away from her touch. "Don't worry, we'll take you to the Healer…."

Hitsugaya looked at her askance. None of this made sense, but at least she'd presented a plausible way for him to get some real answers. "Yes," he said slowly, his mind racing. "That must be it. I don't remember anything….maybe the Healer can help me." If anyone could figure out what was wrong with his reiatsu, or could corroborate the inexplicable existance of a dead woman, it was Unohana. He tried to ignore Hinamori's relieved and sympathetic look as he took a deep breath, closing his eyes and trying to still the tremours that still ran through him. Testingly, he reached inside himself again. Again, met nothingness. "Let's go. Right now." Getting unsteadily to his feet, he lurched towards the door.

"What are you doing!? Are you crazy?" Hinamori's sudden grip on his arm stopped him in his tracks, her touch making his skin crawl. "We can't go out that way. Here." She handed him a dark, filthy cloak, swinging an identical one around her own shoulders and dropping into a crouch. "Of all the things to forget..." She muttered, scrabbling at the floorboards

"Hinamori, why on earth can't we walk out the door?" Hitsugaya started to pull on the cloak as the first plank came up in her hands.

"We'll be killed." she said simply, expertly pulling up another plank and dropping into the cool darkness below. "Come on - this way."

Closing his eyes and fighting for sanity, he followed after her.

* * *

They emerged in an alley a short distance away. Pulling her cloak tightly around her, one hand on his chest pressing him into the shadows, Hinamori carefully peeked out from their dark enclave. As she scanned the immediate area, Hitsugaya twisted around, finally getting a good look at their surroundings. The building they had just emerged from looked like it had been abandoned for centuries, cracked windows gaping balefully at him. It looked as though a strong wind would knock it over, yet it was at least slightly less precarious-looking than the other structures pressing close around them. A dry breeze murmured woefully through the narrow passageways and broken roof tiles, the forlorn sound shivering through him. At first glance it looked as if they were in the middle of a ghost town. 

"Hina-" he started, but her hand quickly clapped over his mouth.

"Quiet," she hissed. "Are you trying to get us killed? Stay to the shadows, move carefully. Keep right behind me." She turned, glanced one more time around the empty passageway. "It's madness to do this in broad daylight. We'll have to be extra-careful." With that she disappeared, gliding swiftly along the buildings. Hitsugaya grit his teeth and followed her.

They wove through the abandoned and creaky buildings for what seemed like hours, Hinamori drifting like a ghost in front of him, picking a winding path that made no sense to him. Every once in a while she would freeze, listening carefully, and more than once they'd had to dive for cover. The town wasn't completely abandoned, though he had yet to actually see anyone; the moment voices could be heard, he was pulled out of sight until the sounds drifted away. Finally, they halted at the edge of yet another alleyway.

"Hinamori," he whispered, barely audible. "How much further is it?"

"There," she replied softly, gesturing towards the building across from them. She listened carefully for a moment, her had raised. "Wait here." She disappeared behind some rubble, leaving him grumbling. Hitsugaya resisted the urge to call after her, wondering why he had to wait, when a figure rounded the corner.

The man was an ordinary soul, dressed in ragged clothing and carrying a bundle of what looked like food. He stopped in his tracks, eyes widening as they took in Toushirou's fierce green eyes and white hair. Hitsugaya stood frozen, instinctively reaching for his absent reiatsu, his hand twitching to heft Hyourinmarou. The man looked surprised for a moment before an angry, triumphant look came into his dark eyes. "Hey!" he exlaimed. "You-"

He never got the rest out as shock sprang back into his eyes. With a slow gurgle, the man pitched forward into the dust, revealing Hinamori standing right behind him, a hard look in her eyes. Something glinted in her hand as she wiped the blood off it and tucked it back into the folds of her cloak. Raising her eyes from the dead man, she lazered Hitsugaya with a cold-blooded stare. "We're clear. Let's go."

As she swept by him, he couldn't help spluttering. "But what about-"

"Leave him," she replied. "Killings are common enough, one more won't be noticed." Tossing one last look over her shoulder, she disappeared inside the building she's pointed out earlier. "Bring the food. And cover your damn hair before anyone else sees you."

* * *

Inside gloomy the building, HItsugaya's eyes struggled to adjust to the murky darkness. Soon shapes emerged, the skeletal remains of some kind of factory. Hinamori was a distance ahead of him, pulling at part of a large piece of dilaplidated machinery. "Help me," she grunted, and tucking the stolen food into the folds of his cloak he joined her in her efforts to get the panel to move. 

"Why did you kill that man back there? He was unarmed..." With a wrench the panel slid open, and before ducking into the passageway that appeared behind it, Hinamori gave him a hard look.

"Because he _wasn't_ unarmed - he _recognized_ you, and would have turned you in in a heartbeat. You're the easiest to spot from the warrent postings, you know." Her brow lowered into a glare. "You were careless. You'd better get your memory back before you get us both killed." Biting his tongue, Hitsugaya followed her into the darkness as the panel slid shut behind them.

They crawled in the pitch black for several minutes before Minamori halted, tapping out a quick staccato on something that sounded like wood. After a long pause, a tiny beam of light appeared, an eye peering at them through the peephole. The eye widened, the peephole slamming shut; a moment and several snicking sounds later a small door before them opened, bathing them in soft light.

"Get in here. Quickly." They tumbled out of the narrow tunnel and into a small room lit with a single candle. Brushing himself off, Hitsugaya eyeballed the tall, lanky figure behind them who was busy closing the small wooden door and re-latching all the locks on it. "You two scared the gods out of me. What on earth are you doing outside during the day, have you gone mad?" Brushing shaggy dark hair out of his eyes, the man turned and glared at them.

"_He_ has, I think. He insisted on seeing you and frankly it seemed best. I've never seen him like this." Hinamori took off her cloak and hung it on a peg on the wall.

"More bad dreams?" the man asked, throwing her a look of wary concern and crossing the small room in a lopey gait. As the man moved closer and into the light, Hitsugaya finally got a good look at him, jumping back in surprise from the hand that was reaching for his forehead.

"Hanataro!?" The boy was taller than he remembered, shadows and lines hardening his normally placant features. The wide, frightened eyes and purile demeanor were nowhere to be seen; the man standing before him looked battle-weary and worn. This new Hanataro exuded a quiet confidence, and was studying him intently. Hitsugaya reeled. "_You're_ the Healer? Where's Unohana?"

Hanataro shot Hinamori a look. "What is this?"

She gave him a look back that said _I told you so_, shrugging miserably. "He woke up funny, disoriented, so I thought it was just another dream. But then he hit his head, and now he acts as though he has forgotten everything since..." She trailed off, her gaze darting towards Hitsugaya. "What's the last thing you remember of us, Shir-, er, Toushirou?"

Hitsugaya chuckled, a bitter, ugly sound. "You _really_ don't want to know that, Hinamori," he grated, his hands making fists. Blowing out in frustration, he decided to make use of the situation. He needed a place to start, anyway. Trying to come up with the best possible frame of reference, he settled on the next-to-last time he'd seen her alive. "You were fighting at Aizen's side, before he fell and the Hougyouku was destroyed."

Alarm lit up Hanataro's face, and he spoke over his shoulder to Hinamori as he pressed a hand to Toushirou's forehead and peered into his eyes. "This isn't amnesia - that erases memory, it doesn't alter it."

Hitsugaya growled. "Talk to _me_; I'm right here."

Hanataro's face flashed an apology. "It's not unusual for you to be confused after one of your dreams. But memory loss, or rememberings things wrong..." He glanced again at Hinamori. "You said he hit his head..?" Hitsugaya swiped his hand away furiously.

"No, goddammit, this has nothing to do with my head. The whole world has gone insane and no one will give me a straight damn answer!" Hitsugaya was thoroughly fed up, felt his breath starting to come in ragged pants. "What in the name of all the gods is going on? What are these dreams you keep talking about? Where's Matsumoto? Why am I running through the streets of Rukongai like a criminal and _why the fuck can't I feel Hyourinmarou!?"_ He was starting to lose it.

Hanataro's hands came up, for once not in fear but in a placating gesture. "Okay, okay," he said slowly, calmly. With an earnest and concerned look in his eyes, he spoke soothingly. "I'll answer all your questions, but I need you to calm down. It's alright," he reassured, giving Hinamori a quick look. "Would you please go make us some tea, Hinamori?" She looked uncertain, almost as if she was afraid to leave them alone, but Hanataro gestured again. "It's fine. We're just going to talk." Slowly, she left the room. Hanataro looked at him, eyes full of patience as Hitsugaya seethed. "What do you want to know?"

Hitsugaya tried to keep his voice even. "First question: _Hyourinmarou_. What happened to my reiatsu?"

A deep, abiding sadness filled Hanataro's eyes, an old, pained expression crossing his face. After a long moment, he sighed. "No one has spirit power anymore. I can't believe of all things you would forget that…."

Hitsugaya felt cold. "What do you mean, no one has spirit power? We are still in Soul Society, aren't we?"

"Well, yes. Of course. But ever since the Emancipation, no one-…"

"Wait, the _what_?!" His head was starting to hurt worse, and Toushirou was desperately starting to wonder if he really wanted answers to his questions, or if he was even asking the right ones. He held up a hand, took a deep breath. "Please, Hanataro, just…..just start at the beginning. Start…." His mind raced. "Start at the Great War, and just tell me everything."

"The Great War?" Hantaro looked puzzled. "You mean the Emancipation?" he asked slowly.

Hitsugaya sighed sharply, feeling like he was dancing on quicksand. "I don't know what that is." Hanataro's face tightened, and Hitsugaya stifled a scream. "Did or did not the attempt to overthrow Heaven with the use of the Hougyouku take place?" he fairly shouted.

Hanataro looked slightly relieved. "Yes."

"Okay." Now they were getting somewhere. He worked very hard at keeping his tone reasonable. "Start from there. After the traitors were stopped and the Hougyokou was destroyed, what happened?"

The relief on Hanataro's face was short-lived. "Neither of those things happened. Well, the traitors _were_ stopped, and Heaven remains unbreached," he continued, watching Hitsugaya carefully. "But the Hougyouku still exists. It belongs to the King."

"The King of Heaven?" Histugaya felt like he was drifting outside of his body. "But….why would the King of Heaven want or need the Hougyouku?"

Hanataro's face hardened, old anger and older pain shimmering in his eyes. "Not the king of Heaven," he said bluntly. "The King of Soul Society."

Steel bands wrapped around Toushirou's chest, his heart thumping painfully against his ribcage. "So….Aizen still lives?" He felt like he was falling down a cliff, and every branch or root he grabbed at just came loose in his hands.

Hanataro's expression darkened further. "No. Aizen fell, betrayed by his closest ally." Hitsugaya shuddered, knowing in one sickening wrench what was coming next. "The King of Soul Society is Ichimaru Gin."

Hitsugaya slumped, covering his face with his hands and trying very hard not to lose it completely. His head still throbbed painfully, the madness of the last few hours making the room spin. "But….." he trailed off, his eyes started burning as he muttered helplessly, "Matsumoto killed him…." His breath froze in his lungs as his all-too-briliant brain started making connections. _But if she _hadn't_….if that one event had never occurred….and Ichimaru had planned all along to get the upper hand on Aizen_….The wild speculations seemed oddly in keeping with the craziness around him. _Wherever I am, whatever reality this is, that one thing_ _never_ _happened, which means_...his head jerked up. "Hanataro, what happened to Matsumoto?" _If she never killed Gin, did that mean.._.? "Did Ichimaru kill her?"

Hanataro snorted. "No, he didn't kill her." He hesitated, his concern peaking as Hitsugaya wavered, unsteady.

"He married her."

For the second time in as many days, Hitsugaya Toushirou passed out cold.


	7. And a Long Tale

_Hitsugaya was dreaming_…

_He dreamt about something Matsumoto had given him once, a gift from the real world. She had called it a snow globe, only this one was the size of the ocean and he was trapped inside, lost in blinding, swirling eddies of snow he couldn't control. He howled and thrashed, knowing Matsumoto was somewhere lost as well, and a booming throb in the back of his head told him that the giant bubble was slowly, inexorably shrinking around them and that time was running out. He knew that if the walls of that sphere touched him, touched either of them, they would be lost forever, separated in the black. So he'd fought and fought and fought against something he couldn't defeat, looking everywhere for Rangiku, for a way out, fearing there was none. And somewhere in the darkness someone had been whispering, begging, screaming, and he couldn't remember if it had been Matsumoto or Hyourinmarou calling his name… _

With a jolt, Hitsugaya's eyes flew open to total darkness.

For a split, heart-breaking second he thought he was back in his room, back home in Tenth squad with Rangiku sleeping peacefully beside him. But the sheets tangled around his legs were too thin, the pallet too hard. And though he could tell, even without reiatsu but with an awareness born from decades of warrior training, that he was not alone in the room, no warm, soft fragrant body was curled up next to him. As the heaviness of the dream lifted, only to be replaced by the mind-bending memories of the last day, he fought a panic that threatened to overwhelm him.

_I will not succumb to fear_. He told himself mercilessly, forcing his pulse to slow and wishing with all his heart he could talk to Hyourinmarou, or Matsumoto for that matter. _I will_ not_. This is not real. This cannot be real. I am Hitsugaya Toushirou, wielder of Hyourinmarou, Captain of the Tenth Squad of the Gotei Thirteen. I do not lie, and I do not fail…_Even that was little comfort, his chest twinging painfully as he remembered the last time he'd spoken those words. The instense feeling of lonliness hurt him abominably, so much so that when the low voice finally spoke, it was a welcomed distraction.

"I arrived just moments before it happened, with supplies I had been sent to fetch."

It took Toushirou a moment to figure out what he was talking about; Hanataro's voice was thick with the memories, something in the soft tone commanding Hitsugaya's attention. "Aizen was standing on top of a hill, the Hougyokou glowing like a second sun in his hand. He was so frightening to look at, that I remember hiding behind Unohana's robes, shivering in fear." A new note had crept in and it didn't take much for Hitsugaya to realize how deeply Hanataro had allowed the self -hatred to burrow. "I didn't see the rest. I listened, though, and felt. I heard Aizen declare himself master of the universe, felt him pour all of his reiatsu into the Hougyokou, felt it drink in his power and ambition like the desert drinks water."

As Hitsugaya's eyes slowly adjusted to the dark, he could just make out hard, dark eyes staring at him, glistening faintly. "I've heard others tell it better, those who stood with courage that day, most of whom have died under my care in the years since." Hanataro swallowed, hard. "They say that there was a moment, right before the full release of the Hougyokou, when it pulsed, almost as if it was trying to resist, as if it wanted to keep its power to itself. As if it were alive. A moment that found Aizen putting all his strength, his reiatsu, his concentration….his entire _being_ into that monstrosity, just to keep it under control. The power released was staggering; many died just from the spirit pressure alone, their bodies crushed to death." A bitter chuckle barked out of the boy, his fingers dug into his forearms. "I only survived because she shielded me. I know she did. My taicho died, saving _me_ of all people..."

For a long moment Hanataro was silent, lost in his own private hell, before something relentless deep within him forced him to come back to the present, to look Toushirou in the eyes again. "And then Gin was there, and he knew. Somehow, he knew that moment would come, knew that one loophole, the one chink in the armor of a man who wanted to be God. The accounts of what happened next vary, somewhat, but one thing everyone agrees on; at just the right moment, Shinsou pierced the Hougyokou. It seemed such a foolish, pointless gesture but in that split-second, while fate was deciding which way the chips would fall, there was a moment of vulnerability. Gin's soulblade ripped right through the pandora, but didn't destroy it. Aizen wasn't so lucky. I'm told his body erupting looked a lot like a Hollow's when they disintegrate. A shower of sparks a thousand feet high, the light bright enough to burn your eyeballs to a crisp."

Hanataro rubbed his eyes, closing them for a moment, his elbow resting on a bent knee and his hand draped across his face. He quietly spoke from behind it. "When the light cleared, Gin stood alone on the hill. The pommel of Shinsou had changed, re-molded, adorning itself with a new trinket that shone like the sun. Gin….._smiled_." Hanataro shuddered, his voice dropping to a whisper, "and spoke a word. Just a single word, that's all it took." The tears started flowing now, and Hitsugaya could feel his own eyes burning. "And the sunlight inside of me went out."

Toushirou's chest tightened, echoing the hollowness where his soul used to burn, and for a moment he mourned a tragedy that had never happened, a horror that felt all too real. After a long time sitting together in the dark, Hanataro wiped his face and started again, briskly, raw grief in his voice.

"Once he'd sealed away the reiatsu of every living being in Soul Society, the rest was easy. The captains fell first; I don't know if you've ever seen Shinsou in Bankai before but even if you had it was nothing compared to what emerged once he'd joined with the Hougyokou. It was….._brutal_. And thorough. He started with Tousen; after all, he knew better than anyone that Tousen could not be trusted. Yamamoto came next; I like to think that Gin, even merged as he was with the Hougyokou, feared in some small way that Yama-jii would get the better of him still. The rest were in no particular order." Seeing the question on Toushirou's face, Hanataro continued. "Some escaped, by luck alone. Kyourakou had taken Ukitake back to Fourth only an instant before. You weren't in the immediate area, obviously, and were smart enough to reason out something close to the truth and hide. A few others did the same."

Finally finding his voice, Hitsugaya posed a question. "If Gin is merged with the Hougyokou, then he is virtually invincible, his power unlimited. How is it _anyone_ got away?" He wasn't about to accept this reality, but he was starting to realize that he desperately needed to understand it if he was going to find a way out.

"The locking away of our reiatsus gave Gin uncontestable power, to be sure, but it also made us all ordinary souls, indistinguishable from the masses that roam Soul Society, and," Hanataro's eyes glittered in bittersweet satisfaction, "completely untraceable. Those who were out of range or out of sight were able to bide enough time to run, to hide. We're still hiding, those of us who are left." Hanataro grunted, looking at his hands as if he could count the number of men who had died in them. "Ichimaru hunts us mercilessly, and the people help him."

"The commoners help him?" Hitsugaya felt his face twisting into a frown. "Why?!"

That bitter laugh again. "Because he _freed _them." Hitsugaya's confusion only added to Hanataro's agonized mirth. "Don't you see? He made us all equals. Why do you think it's called the Emancipation? There's no hierarchy anymore, no ruling government, no greater or lesser. We're all just..._nothing_." With a sigh, Hanataro labored to his feet like a very old man. "Except Gin of course, but he's smart. Like you said, with the Hougyokou, his power is virtually limitless, but it's the show he puts on that is the real masterwork. He has made a veritable Camelot out of Soul Society; his castle dwarfs even Sougyoku hill and blinds you with its splendor. He entertains and bewitches, doling out favors like God himself, and the hearts of the people are his completely. They find him miraculous, generous, benevolent…but those of us who came before know better. Their adoration gives him power, and there is little else that matters to Gin." Turning for the door, he muttered. "In the end it was Ichimaru who was the real danger. He set his sights just a little lower than Aizen, but on something attainable. And now he may just as well be God himself..."

Just before he walked out, Hitsugaya croaked out one more word; it was the question he least wanted answered, the one he couldn't bear not to ask. "Matsumoto."

Hanataro stopped in the doorway, his silhouette black against the dim light beyond. Without turning, he spoke quietly. "Not every shinigami fell, or hid. Some bent the knee, and Matsumoto was the first." He moved then, slowly into the next room, leaving his memories behind in the dark for Hitsugaya to grapple with, calling softly behind him. "There's food, and tea, when you're ready."

* * *

Left alone, Hitsugaya found his head swimming. Never had he thought he would find himself desperately missing the ice dragon deep within him, never thought the day would come when he would need Hyourinmarou's strength and insight and not receive it. Instinctively he reached inside, knowing he would find nothing, and ruthlessly told himself that this was just something he was going to have to figure out on his own.

At least, for what it was worth, Hitsugaya was not called a genius for nothing. His brilliant mind was still available to him, and as much he thought about it, as much as he processed the information he'd received in the past few days, as thoroughly as he tried to reconcile this world in which he found himself, he could only reach one logical conclusion: This. Was. Not. Real. It wasn't possible. This was just some horrible nightmare that he couldn't wake up from. It _had_ to be.

_But..._

The dark whispered to him, asking him questions he didn't have answers for, laying demands on ears that refused to hear...

**What if it is true? What if _this_ is real, and the other is the dream? What if the 'dreams' they say plague you are of the other, a world so beautiful you don't want to wake up?**

Images started flashing through his mind, fighting the doubt..._Matsumoto, lying tormented in a sickbed he couldn't bring himself to leave_...

**How do you know that really happened? Are you sure you didn't just imagine that such a beautiful woman would choose you? Is it so hard to believe that it could have been nothing more than a dream?**

..._the steel in Matsumoto's eyes as she claimed her bankai, the tears shimmering in them as he called her for what she was: fierce, beautiful, free_...

**But what of Hyourinmarou? He is gone, you cannot deny that. No dream can separate you from your spiritforce, surely. It _must_ be real...**

..._the sweet silkiness of touch and skin and sweat, nights without end followed by lazy mornings gazing into the lightest blue eyes imaginable_...

**But Matsumoto isn't at your side, she is at Gin's. Didn't you always wonder? How do you know, for sure, that day in the glen, the night she chose you...how do you know fo****r c****ertain that it ever really happened?**

..._warm wind and sweet grass and a halo of sunlight shimmering off the river behind her, cornsilk eyes full of quiet determination_...

**...Hanataro said that she knelt...**

_ENOUGH_.

Whoever or whatever was doing this had made one, fatal mistake. If he was really expected to accept this reality, accept this fate lying down...

Then they never should have messed with Matsumoto.

If there was one thing in the universe Hitsugaya knew to be true, it was that Ranigku would never submit to _anyone_ against the better judgement of her heart. She would _never_ turn her back on him to follow Ichimaru. If here, in this time and place, that was something that had happened, then it was impossible that it was real. The truth, the reality of the world that he knew was right, flamed inside him in place of the absent fire of his soul, fueling him, burning away all the doubt and uncertainty.

If there was anything that rivaled Toushirou's genius, it was his stubbornness. He had told Rangiku not so very long ago, _promised_ her, that he would never give her reason to doubt his faith in her. And a promise made was a promise kept, even if the entire universe crumbled to dust around him. He didn't understand what was happening, but he knew the truth, and remembering the dream from which he'd just awoken he knew what needed to be done.

_He was going to find Matsumoto and get them the hell out of here_.

And he vowed to the very depth of his being that he would kill whoever was responsible for taking both his love and his soul away from him.

Resolved, he stood and opened the door, walking into the soft light beyond.

It was time to start looking for the way home.


	8. Mad Tea Party

"Hey, you're up!" Hinamori's face lit up as he entered the tiny kitchen. She held out some bread, pilfered from the man in the alleyway. "Want some?"

Hitsugaya looked at her, a tiny frown of curiosity on his face. "We still eat?"

"We eat." Hanataro swept into the room behind him, squeezing past to wash his hands at the sink. "Just because our spirit power's been locked away doesn't mean we weren't meant to house it, and our bodies still require the nourishment." He looked up from his scrubbing. "You should have some, I don't want you passing out again."

Hitsugaya, realizing he was voraciously hungry, took the bread Hinamori offered and tore into it. "If we can still feel hunger, then that means we must be able to get to our spirit power, somehow." His murfled words only brought drawn looks to the other's faces, Hanataro looking away in disgust as Hinamori answered.

"We've tried." Her face was full of apology, defeat. "Some still try, but so far..."

"Some _fools_ still try," Hanataro muttered. He went out the way he came, elbowing by Hitsugaya rather roughly. Toushirou looked at Hinamori, brows furrowed.

She sighed. "Everyone reacted differently to having their spirit power sealed. Some died on the spot. Some went crazy. Others threw themselves at Gin's feet, begging for mercy only to be publically executed as former 'tyrants'. Some tried to get to their spirit power back, at any cost." Her eyes glimmered with sadness. "They die, badly. Most of them here, under Hanataro's care. He tries to help, but still..." She blinked at him balefully. "A powerless soul trying to fight against a barrier created by the Hougyokou is like jumping naked into the heart of the sun. Actually," she chuckled harshly, "jumping into the sun would be better; at least that kills you right away. The Hougyokou takes its time."

Hitsugaya absorbed that information. "And me? How did I react?"

"You have dreams." She said softly. "Bad ones. Some nights it's all I can do to keep you from hurting yourself, or me, and when you wake up there's frost in your hair." She looked down at the table, plucking at the rough surface. "Those days are the worst. I fear that you're fighting the barrier in your sleep, and I'll wake to find you burning, like the others."

Hitsugaya supressed a shudder. _This isn't real. Don't forget that. It isn't real._ "Hanataro said there were other survivors. Who's left?"

Hinamori sighed. "Not many. The captains are all gone, except for you. Kyouraku survived for a long time, hiding with us, fighting Gin. Until Ukitake was captured, held prisoner. Shunsui died trying to save him." Her eyes looked too tired for tears. "Rumor has it that Ukitake is still alive in the dungeons but we've never been able to verify it. Other than that...it's hard to tell. We move around a lot, and die often. Hisagi is still here, somewhere; he was supposed to check in with us a while ago, but we haven't heard from him. We're pretty sure he's still alive despite his silence; we can usually depend on Gin to make executions and captures as public as possible. It keeps the commoners excited, and hunting us. The prices on our heads have gotten pretty high, too." She gave him a wry grin. "Yours is impressive, second only to Urahara's."

"Kisuke!?" Hitsugaya exclaimed. "He's _here_? But I thought he was an exile..."

This time Hinamori's sigh had an edge of frustration in it. "You really don't remember _anything_, do you? Of course he's here; who do you think is in charge of organizing the resistance against Gin?" She grinned wickedly. "His reiatsu might be sealed, but that was only ever part of his power. The stuff he comes up with is brilliant, and he makes the _best_ explosives..."

She babbled on, but Hitsugaya was no longer listening. _Urahara is here. He_ must _be able to help. If anyone can make sense of this, it's him - he's got to know something useful about different dimensions, splintered realities..._. "I have to see him, Hinamori. As soon as possible. You have to take me to him."

"I can't," she said meekly. "We're only supposed to go see him if it's a dire emergency."

"What the bloody hell do you think this is?!" Hitsugaya roared. His hands twitched; hell, he really didn't need her to call him his hated nickname to want to strangle her. "Look," he stifled a growl, "there's no way I can make this make sense to you, but...I need him to figure something out for me. It's important." That was the understatement of the century.

"I know it's hard, but amnesia is _not_ an emergency," replied Hinamori firmly, no longer meek. He started argue, to remind her that even Hanataro had said that his problem wasn't memory loss, but Hinamori was shaking her head, a look settling onto her features that he recognized from childhood as utter intractibility. "I'm not taking you anywhere until you get your memory back." She met his glare with one of her own. "You do remember the alley, don't you? Until your memory returns, you're a danger to yourself and the rest of us. You belong here..."

"Trust me, if there's anywhere I _don't_ belong, it's _here_!" His yell brought instant tears to her eyes.

"You know, sometimes I really do hate you," she returned, shoving him out of the way and flying out the door. A moment later, he heard the bedroom door slam and the loud clack of a lock sliding home. Muffled sobs reached his ears shortly after.

Hitsugaya swore quietly and fluently for a long time but couldn't bring himself to apologize; after all, it was exceptionally difficult to muster up guilt for having hurt the feelings of someone who wasn't real. Particularly one who was standing in his way of finding the way out of this hell. Gritting his teeth, he stalked off in search of Hanataro.

* * *

A search that, as it turned out, didn't take long. Emerging from the tiny kitchen, Hitsugaya found himself in the room he remembered from their arrival, with the small, wooden door in the corner and a single candle burning forlornly on a shabby table. Another door to his right was absorbing Hinamori's quiet weeping, so he turned abruptly towards the left and the only other door leading out of the room. He entered a small, dark hallway that looked as if it had been dug out of the ground, earthen walls pressing in damply on either side. 

"Hanataro?"

The hallway opened into a large albeit still cramped room, the low ceiling stretching off into the darkness. Marching away from him in orderly rows were curtains, one after another, each a different color, pattern, length. At intervals, lonely candles spluttered, doing little to dispel the gloom, but the scent in the air told him in no uncertain terms that this was a sick ward. Despite that, there were no groans or coughs, no calls for aid. The room was a quiet as a tomb. Curious, Hitsugaya walked over to one divider, pulling the droopy material back...

He almost threw up. Curled up on the tiny bed behind the ragged curtain was the tortured, twisted form of a young girl. Muscles had atrophied, blackened and cracking open in hideous, weeping sores; the face was unrecognizable, frozen in a rictus of pain. There was no blanket covering the remains, and he absently noted that all her hair was gone. The curtain suddenly yanking back into place allowed him to finally tear his gaze away; gagging, Toushirou sagged and would have hit the floor if it wasn't for Hanataro's arm under his.

"Come on. You shouldn't be in here." He carefully led Hitsugaya back down the dank hallway into the little room, sat him down at the table where the little candle still burned. Making sure he was alright, Hanataro disappeared into the kitchen; a moment later Toushirou could hear tea cups clinking.

"Hanataro, what the hell _was_ that?" The image was hard to shake in the gloom; Hanataro seemed to read his mind, bringing another candle perched atop the tray of tea things he carried.

"That was a twelfth Seat, once upon a time. From First." Setting down his tray, he served Hitsugaya a steaming cup of warm liquid, setting the second candle where it would banish the most shadows. His voice was sad. "Her name was Aoki."

The tea almost burned Hisugaya's tongue, but he didn't care; shuddering, he slurped at the soothing refreshment. "Why haven't you buried her?" he croaked.

"Because she's not dead." Brown eyes fielded the shocked look with surprising calm, pain worn like an old blanket one couldn't get rid of. "Not yet. Not for a while still." He sighed, a wretched, tired sound. "I've given her as much painkiller as I can, wortroot and some other things...sometimes I think it was a blessing that I never had much spirit power. It made me focus on learning roots and herbs, medicines..." Bleakness stretched across Hanataro's face. "Things that come in handy, now. For what little good it does."

Hinamori's voice drifted back from the kitchen earlier ..._I fear I'll find you burning like the others...the Hougyokou takes its time..._

Hitsguaya gulped. _Gods, I've got to get out of here_. "Hanataro, I need your help. I have to find Urahara..."

"I know," he replied. "I heard." He managed a small, wry smile. "My home is not very big, and you two were shouting." Nodding slightly at Hitsugaya's guilty expression, at his silent apology, Hanataro regarded him for a long moment. "Why do you need Urahara's help? Tell me."

Hitsugaya struggled for the words, toying awkwardly with his teacup as he stared into the hot drink. "It's hard to...explain." How the hell was he supposed to say this? "Something is...not _right_, here. Something I don't understand, something he might. I need him to help me figure it out." He risked a look.

Hanataro was regarding him thoughtfully. "And this...'something'. It has to do with your memories? Your _real_ ones, not the ones _we_ have?" Hitsugaya was floored at his choice of words but before he could ask, Hanataro continued. "When I told you about Aizen earlier, I was watching you. You don't just _not_ remember; you have _other_ memories, different ones. Stronger ones." His face softened into something that was almost wondering. "I could see you resisting what I was telling you, as if you were comparing it to something else, something that, to you, was more real. If you'd had no memories at all you would have been absorbing my words like a sponge, not fighting them."

Hitsugaya was at a loss for words. _Who is this kid? Is this really some reflection of Hanataro?_ He found it hard to meet the boy's gaze, for fear that his own memory of a bumbling, shivering coward would be reflected in his eyes. _If so, then everyone in Soul Society, the_ real _one, is underestimating him_...

"Hanataro, I-" he started, then broke off. Meeting that steely gaze from across the table, Hitsugaya firmed his resolve; the man before him wasn't a snivelling coward, and he deserved the truth. "Two days ago, I wore a captain's haori and governed the Tenth squad in Sereitei. Aizen was defeated, Gin was dead and there was peace." The brown eyes boring into his moistened, something deep within them stirring, but he did not look away. "You were alive and well, Unohana and Yamamoto and everyone else as well, and Hyourinmarou burned inside of me. And Matsumoto," his voice broke, just slightly, "stood at my side. Hanataro, where I am from, we _won_. And by all the gods in heaven, I don't know how I got here or how any of this is even happening, but I swear on my soul - I _will _find the way back."

Hanataro's gaze fell to his teacup, and he stared at the steam lazily rising from his cup for a long time. "I believe you," he finally said, quietly. "I don't know why; I can't say it makes any sense. But..." he looked up again at Hitsugaya, at the fierce light that glowed in his eyes. "There's something about you that makes me...hopeful. And that is something I never thought to find again, something that has been lost in this world. That, more than anything, makes me believe that you're not from here." Another long sigh, and he set his tea cup back on the tray. "I'll take you to see Urahara. And I pray you're right," he muttered as he got up and started collecting the tea things. "Because no one should have to live the lot we've been handed."

Hitsugaya surged awkwardly to his feet, unable to express his gratitude. "When?" he asked hoarsly, emotions thick in his throat.

"Now." Hanataro picked up the tray and turned away. "Right now."

* * *

'Right now' turned out to take longer than Toushirou would have liked. It took Hanataro a while to talk Hinamori into staying behind; as much as she refused to go with them, she was decidedly reluctant to remain alone in the dark with the figures lingering in the back room. Hitsugaya could hardly blame her, and he resisted the urge to feel sorry for her as they prepared for their journey. 

"Is she going to be okay?" he asked over the running sink faucet, unable to be completely calloused.

Hanataro answered from the bedroom. "She'll be fine. Despite the scene she's making, she's done this plenty of times before. She doesn't like it, but she knows the drill." The soft rasping sound of drawers opening and closing accompanied his assurances.

"How far away is Urahara?" Hitsugaya's voice echoed loudly around the sink as he scrubbed some kind of powder Hanatoro had given him across his scalp.

"Not far," Hanataro replied, rejoining him in the kitchen and dropping a fresh cloak and change of clothing on the kitchen table behind him. "But he will be hard to get to. His location changes frequently, and though he leaves clues behind for those of us who know how to find them, it will take a while to hunt them down and interpret them. Probably the better part of the a day, I would venture to guess." As Hitsugaya finished and straightened up, wet tendrils of hair dripping coolly onto his shoulders, Hanataro scrutinized his work. "Good." he pronounced, tugging briefly at a dark, wet lock. "It'll darken some more when it dries, but keep the cloak on just in case. And your eyes _down_, for that matter; there's no hiding _their_ color."

"You really think I'd be spotted just by that?" Hitsugaya wondered aloud as he rubbed a towel across his tangled mane, absently trying to figure out how many people in Soul Society could boast the same shade of icy green.

"Color's only half of it," Hanataro said wryly, turning to pack the rest of their supplies. "There's hope in your eyes, Hitsugaya Toushirou, and resolve. You'd be recognized on those alone."

Those words echoed in Hitsugaya's mind long after, as Hanataro left instructions with a reluctant but resigned Hinamori for the care of his patients, as he unlocked the small wooden door and as they started crawling through the pitch black up to the abandoned machinery that hid its entrance. Emerging from the decrepit factory, Hitsugaya blinked in the bright sunlight.

"The sun's still up." He tried to keep his eyes from watering, pulling his cloak tighter.

Hanataro nodded. "You were only out for a couple of hours, and got here early this morning. You said it was urgent you see Urahara right away..." Hanataro peered out into the rubble beyond the thin walls.

"I thought it was bad to be moving around in daylight." Not that he was complaining, but he couldn't shake Hinamori's insistance that his ignorance could get people killed. Not only did he not want any harm to come to Hanataro, but as much as he hated to admit it, without him he would never find Urahara, never find his way out of this nightmare. "Are you sure it's safe?"

Hanataro smiled his wan smile, sharp eyes hunting the shadows. "Nothing is safe for us. But you're disguised, and Hinamori worries just a bit too much. We'll be fine, just stay close. The hardest part is getting far enough away from the buildings that hide the entrances to our homes; after that it's not so bad if we're seen, as long as it's from a distance. We'll just mingle in with the rest of them." In a flash, he was ghosting across the alley, and with a firm grip on his cloak Hitsugaya followed.

The next several hours or so were very much like the ones that had led him to Hanataro's; windings in and out of buildings, paths picked with little appearant rhyme or reason, staying hidden whenever others drifted near. As the sun started to drop towards the tops of the buildings, they finally started to hear sounds up ahead, a great inchoerent murmer, like a great throng massed together. Sounds and smells started to assail them, and whisps of his childhood drifted across Hitsugaya's memory, images of a scrawny kid with scraped knees pilfering watermelons from street vendors in the great market squares of Rukongai.

"Is it wise to be this close to the market?" Hitsugaya asked; Hanataro was crouched on the other side of a large pile of rubble, scrutinizing the lay of the bricks as if their arrangement meant something to him. That had happened several times already (once it was a birds nest, the eggs arranged just right, another time it was laundry hanging from a window that had given Hanataro pause, as well as half a dozen other signs that Hitsugaya had missed completely) and each signal had prompted a change in their direction, another seemingly aimless trek back and forth across the outskirts of Rukongai. Hearing his question, Hanataro glanced up, his eyes tightening slightly in concern.

"We're _not_ clost to a market. There's some kind of demonstration going on, or something..." Turning back towards the bricks, he nodded slightly and then kicked at the pile, erasing whatever message had been there. "We'd better hurry; if Kisuke can hear the crowd, he'll be on the move already and it will be days before he lays a trail again."

"What kind of demonstration?" Hitsugaya insisted as Hanataro turned his back on the noise and started moving swiftly away.

"I don't know," he threw another worried look over his shoulder. "Something unplanned. Usually they announce executions and the like..." He started moving faster.

For some reason, Hitsugaya hesitated. The noise behind him was swelling, and Hanataro's figure rapidly disappearing...but he was drawn to the roiling sounds for some reason he couldn't fathom. _Would you get moving, baka? You really will get someone killed at this rate_...

Turning, he made to follow Hanataro just as the shouting voices behind him coalesced into discernable words.

"..._Make way for the Queen...make way for the..."_

_Queen_? It took Hitsugaya a nano-second; his knees almost buckled as the realization hit him. "Matsumoto!" he cried, pivoting on his heel and leaping in the direction of the noisy crowd. _Is it really that easy? It _can't _be that easy to find her_...

The breath whooshed out of him as he was slammed into a wall. Hanataro's furious eyes were inches away from his; he'd caught up so quickly Hitsugaya would have thought he'd flash-stepped if he didn't know better.

"Are you _insane_?" Hanataro hissed. "Look, I said I believed you, and gods above and below help me I still do, but now _you've_ got to believe _me_. Things are _different_ here, and wherever you come from, that is _not_ the Matsumoto you remember!" Hitsugaya was trembling, but Hanataro matched his fury and held him firmly. "If I told you _half_ of the stories of the _Queen_," his face twisted and he looked like he wanted to spit. "you'd go blind with grief. Now _listen_ to me - LEAVE. HER. We have to go - _now_."

Something deep within him snapped; with seemingly little effort, Hitsugaya threw the man off him, sending him sprawling into the dust. Panting, he pinned him to the ground with a look more implacable than death.

"If you believe _anything_, believe this - _I'll die before I leave her behind_." Turning, he headed towards the throng. "Go on ahead, I'll follow shortly."

"You _fool_!" Hanataro spat. "You'll never find your way without me!"

"Then wait for me here. I'll be back," he looked over his shoulder and lazered the spluttering Hanataro with his look. "Before sunset. I promise."

Without another glance behind him, Hitsugaya took off at a dead run.


	9. The Queen

He found the crowd in a frighteningly short amount of time. Or, to be specific, it found him. 

It seemed he had only just left Hanataro glaring murder on the dirty ground and begun dashing through narrow passageways when he rounded a corner and ran full-tilt into a wall of people. The alleys and buildings had masked the sound, bouncing it around and distorting it deceptively, and the throng had been seething only few blocks away. He could hardly believe that so many people fit in all of Rukongai, much less in the large square ahead of him. Everywhere he looked, Hitsugaya saw spirit beings pushing and shoving and waving handkerchiefs, throwing flowers and shouting at the top of their lungs. The cacophany produced by the mass of people was deafening.

Not to mention blinding. Tall he might have become, but the turnout for the passing of the Queen was unfathomable, and his view was extremely obstructed. Seething with frustration, Hitsugaya looked around his immediate vicinity; the building to his right boasted a large trellis overrun with a growing vine of some sort. It only took him moments to scale high enough to see over the crowd.

The attention of the horde was being drawn towards the center of the square, where an ornate palanquin covered in gold and jewels was impossible to ignore. A tight ring of brightly uniformed guards kept the crowd at an appreciable distance; the overall effect was one of a brightly hued bauble floating in the midst of a roaring sea of bland colors. Toushirou felt his throat tighten, his heart thumping wildly in his chest. He strained his eyes, but try as he might he could not to get a clear glimpse of the occupant of the vessel; silken drapes made it impossible to make out the figure that drew such adulation and in a twitch of bad luck the procession was moving away from him.

_Is it really her...?_ he wondered, desperately wishing for the merest hint of reiatsu to allay the sudden doubts assailing him.

_Wherever you come from, that is_ not _the Matsumoto you remember_...shaking his head to clear his mind of Hanataro's warning, not to mention his own squirrelling convictions, Hitsugaya firmed his resolve. The impressions of his fever-dream would not leave him alone, and if there was any chance at all that Rangiku was trapped in this nightmare too, then he had to get to her. Screwing his courage to the sticking place, he studied the crowd intently and tried to figure out what his next step would be.

Hitsugaya wondered absently, as he observed the joy and delight on the people's faces, why Hanataro had found it necessary to react so vehemently earlier in the alley. _This is the Queen he was so worried about? But the people seem so happy_...

The thought was fleeting, followed hard by the logistics of how in heaven to get near the procession. The crowd was pressed close, and despite his disguised appearance Hitsugaya knew it would be phenomenally stupid to make a scene. In fact, it came to him that he was awfully exposed as it was hanging off a trellis; the hood of his cloak had fallen back during his climb and he felt the spot between his shoulder blades starting to itch. One last, quick look to memorize the layout of the square and gague the general speed and direction of the royal troupe, and he dropped nimbly to the ground.

The sun wasn't about to wait for him to figure it out, however, and Hanataro's patience was running out with the daylight. Without a clear-cut plan but with desperation mounting by the moment, Hitsugaya decided there was nothing for it but to join the crowd and make his way through.

Threading through the celebrants proved rather difficult, however, and more than once Toushirou found himself blandly wishing that he was still short, as it would have certainly aided his progress. Still, his height did allow him fleeting glimpses of the palanquin as it weaved leisurely through the crowd; the royal procession seemed to be in no particular hurry. Gritting his teeth and keeping a firm grip on his cloak hood, he made imperceptible progress, stepping on feet when necessary and resorting to brute force whenever a seemingly unmovable object met his unstoppable force. Fortunately, the crowd was too focused on their passing dignitary to make much note of such rude shoving and jabbing, and he managed to scuffle his way along with little more than a few heated glares and one or two annoyed protests.

His ears were ringing by the time the sun had sunk another degree, his urgency fueled by his promise to Hanataro and the all-too-real possibility of finding himself bereft of his guide if this venture took too long. The sights and sounds bombarding him were starting to get overwhelming and for the briefest of moments Hitsugaya lost his orientation; the crushing press of the crowd had grown even tighter, all but halting his movements entirely. A few insistent thrusts produced no give in the tangle of limbs and torsos pressing against him, but before he could resort to more drastic measures something smacked him squarely on top of his head. Confused, he risked a glance up, pushing his hood back just slightly to clear his view. He was shocked to find himself within few spans of the planaguin, only a body-length or two away from the wall of security guards ringing it. His relief at having made it thus far was instantly eclipsed as something shiny slid off his hood and into his hand, and he suddenly realized that not all of the ringing was in his ears.

Lithe young girls adorned in fine livery that could only have been the queen's personal attendants were hovering along the edge of the palanquin, tossing golden coins into the milling crowd, smiling obsequiously. The peasants, already near hysterics, went absolutely mad, jumping into the air and scrabbling wildly for the tokens. As one, they surged forward, carrying Hitsugaya right along with them towards the alert bodyguards.

_Not good_... Hitsugaya urgently tried to backpedal, to lose himself in the crowd, away from the eyes of the all-too near royal procession, but the effort was futile. His back ran into a solid mass of people squirming to reach the glittering gifts. Barely avoiding more than one blow to the head from the flailing limbs of the frenetic crowd, he tried to duck away but found himself pawed at viciously by a large and rather scruffy-looking peasant.

"Hey, you - that there's mine!!" Grabbing at the coin that was still in Hitsugaya's hand, the man began to struggle with him, ranting loudly about thievery and injustice.

"Here, take it, you fool," Hitsugaya hissed, shoving the coin hard at the disagreeable fellow and trying to disappear before the obnoxious man drew unwanted attention. In his eagerness to get away, he overshot on the push and the man went pin-wheeling back into several other by-standers, resulting in exactly the kind of ruckus Hitsugaya had been trying to avoid. A veritable shoving match ensued as Hitsugaya desperately tried to extricate himself from the scene.

"Here now, what's going on?" Bright livery and gleaming weaponry held at the ready filled Hitsugaya's view as one of the bodyguards stepped in. Hard, black eyes in a darkly tanned face slid inscruitably over the mob and, pausing for a split second at the fierce look of frustration Hitsugaya was failing to hide, the soldier issued a short, shrill whistle. Within moments, he was flanked by two more of his men-in-arms as they quickly moved to quiet the disturbance. Hitsugaya found a large hand with an iron grip clamping down on his shoulder. "Who's disturbing the Queen's peace?"

Hitsugaya lowered his head in what he hoped was a properly subservient manner and muttered something he could only pray sounded apologetic. _Please, just move on_, he seethed silently, feeling more than seeing the palanquin slowly angle away. _Just let me go_..._nothing to see here_... The people around their small group were following after the royal procession, as it angled away eagerly dancing after the coins, and the courtyard was slowly thinning out around them. He was losing chances to disappear into the crowd by the second.

"That kid's making trouble, see?" The rank peasant who'd originally assaulted Hitsugaya threw the angry accusation along with a heated glare and a pointed finger, and before Hitsugaya could protest several of the standers-by agreed in raucus chorus. As the soldiers solomnly listened to a cacophanous and highly unfair litany of accusations, Hitsugaya swallowed that horrible, sinking feeling one gets when, in a dream, one moves slower and slower the faster one tries to run.

"All right, you're coming with us." With a forceful wrench, the dark-faced soldier tried to wrestle Hitsugaya into custody. Toushirou resisted just long enough to see most of the crowd filtering out of the courtyard, obliquely following their beloved ruler and leaving the square nearly empty, before swinging into action.

He might not have Hyourinamrou to answer at his call, but that didn't negate decades of exemplary military combat training. In one swift move, Hitsugaya grabbed the long pikestaff being brandished by the nearest soldier and spirited it out of his grip, swooping it around in an elegant arc that caught its previous owner as well as the guard next to him in vicious cracks to their temples. The pair hadn't even had time to groan and slump to the ground before the staff was whirling again, and Hitsugaya won back his shoulder with swift knocks to knee, ankle and wrist. The curses of his former captor were blithely ignored as another blurred motion sent the dark-eyed guard reeling towards the cobblestones. In less time than it took his peasant accusers to fall silent and gape in terror, all three soldiers were lying motionless on the ground.

Teeth bared, Toushirou spared them a wordless snarl, just enough to send the wretched peasants scampering away in hysterics, before snapping the pike staff in half across his knee, discarding the lower portion and tucking the spear-headed half under his cloak. He felt better now that he had secured some kind of weapon. Eyes darting from the emptied courtyard to the dropping sun, he cursed silently and fluently and started swiveling his head, trying to discern exactly which alleyway he had first emerged from what seemed like hours ago. Much as his gut twisted bitterly, he had to admit that he had compromised himself badly; he needed to get back to Hanataro before he lost him completely and regroup. He would just have to find some way to enlist Hanataro and Urahara's help in getting close to the queen...

Slow, deliberate clapping behind him froze his feet to the the spot, even as Hitsugaya half-whirled to meet the sound and his hand darted instinctively under his cloak to grip his hidden weapon.

"Not bad, not bad at all." A young girl in bright livery was slowly approaching him, her mouth twisted in wry amusement even as her eyes glinted dangerously. It took him a moment but he remembered her face; he'd glimpsed her earlier as one of the queen's attendants tossing coins off the edge of the palanquin. He had a sudden, sinking feeling that it had been her coin that had hit him squarely on the head.

Still, she was just a girl, slender and unarmed. Hitsugaya silently watched her approach, feeling in his gut that she was a threat but unable to determine exactly why.

"You're either very brave or very stupid to disturb the Queen's peace." She continued, her honeyed tone raising his hackles. Her liscentious gaze twisted in a manner that became positively predatory. "Nice eyes."

The way she said it sent adrenaline surging down his limbs, just in time for the unseen blow to the back of his head to send Toushirou spiraling into darkness.

* * *

A sharp kick to Hitsugaya's left kidney brought him gasping back to consciousness. Groaning, he gritted his teeth against the lightening-bolt of agony that shot through him as rough voices reached his ears.

"Lay off, Gorou. You know she doesn't like the pretty ones all bruised up." A sour grunt met that statement as Hitsugaya struggled to clear his blurred vision and make sense of his surroundings. He was laying on a wooden floor in a small, fire-lit room; the warmth from the hearth made him almost glad that they'd taken his cloak away, even if it meant the loss of his weapon as well as most of his disguise. One attempted wriggle confirmed that his hands were tied behind his back, and produced another kick. Hitsugaya doubled over, retching.

"I said knock it off! She'll have our ears if we damage her plaything..." The gravelly voice came from the far corner, where a bored-looking guard was leaning with arms crossed. The protests against the abuse were issued in a lazy tone drawl, as if the man was far more concerned with being bothered than with their prisoner's welfare.

"Yeah, well, he damaged _me_ and a pair of my men." Halting bootscuffs circled around him as Hitsugaya fought for his breath, the sharp toe-point of a boot jabbing painfully under his chin and forcing his head up to meet the cold, black eyes of the guard he'd assaulted earlier in the square. "You're damn lucky Kiku Selected you, boy, or you'd not have been given the priviledge of waking up."

The man in the corner snorted. "Damn lucky the Queen's a randy bitch who like's 'em young, more like, eh?" The two men shared a caustic chuckle as Hitsugaya finally found air. And realized with a an infuriated wrench who they were talking about.

"What did you say?" Hitsugaya grated, glaring murder at both his predicament and the guard's imprecations.

"Oh look, he's trying to defend the Queen's honor!" The corner guard laughed uproariously as Gorou dropped into a crouch, snickering rudely as he casually met Hitsuaya's heated fury.

"Yeah, well, you'll be well acquainted with the Queen's 'honor' soon enough, boy." The smug, perverted expression on his dull features made Hitsugaya want to kick the dark face in, a sentiment that must have showed. Yellow teeth broke out in a sinister leer as Gorou's voice dropped conspiratorially, a sound that was at odds with the hard glitter of his gimlet eyes. "You may think you're lucky now, boy, to be fingered for the Queen's personal harem, but just you wait until she gets tired of you. If you're _really_ lucky, you'll find yourself less a few..._particulars_, and left cold on the street to crawl home in shame. If you're _not_ lucky..." The man shrugged as Hitsugaya fought to keep his tongue still. "Well, there's always the King. Much as he allows the Queen her entertainments, he retains the right to play the jealous husband whenever he gets bored..." With a wordless growl, Hitsugaya threw himself at the smirking face, hoping at the least to take out a few teeth before he was subdued. But the guard just flinched out of reach as crude laughter filled the room again.

"Gorou, what I have told you about toying with the catch?" With a creak, a large door opened on the other side of the room and the slip of a girl who had hoodwinked Hitsugaya earlier slipped inside. He fixed her with one of his darkest glares, but it only seemed to amuse her. "Get him up - she's already on her way."

His shoulders very nearly left their sockets as he was hauled unceremoniously to his feet. Held tightly in check by the iron grips of the men on either side of him, Hitsugaya forced his back straight and tried very hard to look as if he wanted to be standing there and the guards were merely incidental. Kiku walked closer, examining him critically as if he were a stud at market. "At least you had enough sense to leave the face alone this time." Shoving a hand at his forehead, she roughly brushed back darkened hair. A smile ghosted her face then, as she murmered, "_Gorgeous_ eyes..." before snapping around and bowing respectfully at the sound of footfalls approaching the door.

With a rustle of silk and the faintest tinkling of jewels, the Queen entered the room.

Despite everything, Hitsugaya's throat tightened the moment she filled his vision. She was..._stunning_. The room seemed brighter for her presence, although that could have been attribituted to the way her glittering jewelry and gleaming silks picked up the light from the fireplace. Caught in the soft tumbles of her curls, a delicate tiara blazed with a blinding array of faceted sapphires, their lay emphasizing a diamond the size of a goose egg in the very center of the golden filagree. His heart thumped painfully in his chest the moment he laid eyes on that face he loved so much...

And froze solid as he looked into the cold, calculating eyes of a complete stranger.

"Hmmm...Kiku, as usual your sharp eyes find the choicest treats," purred the Queen as she languidly drifted closer. Passing the young girl, she raised a beringed hand and patted her servant on the head as one would an obedient puppy; for her part, Kiku reacted as if she indeed were one, glowing with delight at the proffered words. Gliding to a stop in front of him, Hitsugaya could feel the grips on his upper arms tighten as the Queen looked him over in a way that was thoroughly unpleasant. A slow tremor worked its way through his limbs; he couldn't tell if it was horror, anger or crushing disappointment. _Stupid...Hanataro tried to warn you_...The stranger with Rangiku's face seemed to notice his distress, and the harsh grey eyes glittered in amusement as she traced his cheekbone with a sharp nail. The forefinger scratched down to careess his jawline, pausing to dig into his chin so as to get a better look at his eyes.

"Just the right color...you truly have a talent, my girl." the Queen murmered.

A violent tremor shook him as his roiling emotions slipped momentarily, and the Queen's vixen eyes twinkled at the heat in his gaze. "Got a bit of fire in you, don't you?" she taunted. "Good - it just makes it that much more fun to break you." With a tiny sigh of anticipation, she dropped the playful tone. "You'll do. Bring him." She turned and swept towards the door without so much as a backward glance.

"Yes, Your Majesty," the three servents crowed.

Hitsugaya could hardly breathe past the lump in his throat as he watched her retreating figure. _Is this what you would have become, love?_ he couldn't help wondering. _Is this what he could have turned you into, if that madman had had another decade to work you over?_ A million memories of his strong, brave, indominable Rangiku flashed through his mind as what was real and what was not momentarily blurred into the haze of his dumbfounded agony. That any kind of reality could exist that would see his Matsumoto so twisted, so broken, so _unrecognizable_...Stifling a moan, he swore silently. _I'll kill the bastard myself, if I get the chance in this world_...

All this passed in a moment as Hitsugaya remained silent, his brain racing as he tried to figure out how the hell he was going to get out of this. He almost didn't notice the Queen slow to a halt in the sudden silence. At the door, she turned to look at him.

If her eyes were cold before, they were positively lethal now. A sharp pinch on his arms by the suddenly taut guards warned him, but of what he could not tell. The Queen relieved him of the mystery with a voice pitched viperously soft.

"The correct response is, 'Yes, Your Majesty'", she intoned, levelling him with her stare and waiting for his submission.

Hitsugaya stared back. And kept his silence.

The sharp hiss from Kiku mattered little to him as the Queen turned and stalked slowly back into the room. His heart beat louder with every step closer she took, but he refused to back down. And he refused to speak.

"Kiku," the Queen murmered. "Is this..._maggot_ actually attempting to defy me?" The girl was trembling violently but the Queen ignored ignored her distress, coming to a halt before Hitsugaya once more. Calmly receiving his glare, she susurrated, "Now, I want to hear you say, 'Yes, Your Majesty', like a good little boy, and I will consider whether or not to hurt you. And," she said pointedly, "whether or not you will like it."

Hitsugaya's eyes burned holes in her head but he held his tongue. Her face darkened as she cocked an eyebrow.

"Just who, _exactly_, do you think you are disrespecting, you worthless pile of scum?" she hissed softly, and now there was no mistaking the murderous intent in her eyes.

So be it. Maybe death was what he needed to escape this nightmare. She wanted an answer? Then he would give her one.

He spoke then, quietly. "You are Matsumoto Rangiku," he whispered, as his heart cried out in agony. "_Wielder of Heineko_..."

Fury erupted on her face and in a split-second the Queen screamed primodially right in his face. Turning purple, she shot out a hand and seized the hilt of one of the guard's swords, pulling it loose as she whirled around and snapped an angry command at Kiku, who fled in terror from the room, slamming the door behind her. During the ruckus, Hitsugaya continued his barely-audible litany.

"_You are as beautiful as the sunset_..."

The guards were yanking on his arms urgently as if trying to shut him up.

"..._as brilliant as daybreak_..."

The Queen, her borrowed faced twisted into ugly contortions, shouted infuriated instructions at the guards.

"..._you love like there is no tomorrow_..."

His knees cracked against the floorboards as the guards forced him to the ground, bending him at the waist and pulling away as far as they could without losing their grip.

"..._you are my fukutaicho..."_

He couldn't see anything but the the ground now as his neck was offered to the sword-wielding Queen. As the first and last tears fell from his eyes, he watched her feet shift as she drew back the blade for a full swing...

"..._and I will settle for no less than all of you_."

There was nothing left for it but to close his eyes and wait for the killing blow.


	10. Masquerade

A blow that never came. 

Instead, two dull thuds reached Hitsugaya's ears, accompanied by the wet sound of spraying blood. He peeked an eye open just long enough to see the heads of the two guards, bereft of their bodies, rolling to a halt at either side of him, followed by the louder thuds of their lifeless bodies collapsing bonelessly. A sharp clattering broke his shock as the scimtar was dropped from nerveless fingers and an avalanche of silks and jewels and tears descended on him.

"_Oh, gods above and below -_ _TOSHI!!!"_

If Hitsugaya was in any way worried that he was dead already, the notion was instantly dispelled by a bone-crushing hug.

"It's _you_, oh gods in heaven, _it's_ _really you_!!" Matsumoto was really trying to crush him this time, sobbing in some combination of relief and fear and joy. Her hair was tickling his face, enveloping him in her lush scent, and she was babbling nearly incoherently, which was fine because he was having trouble processing the fact that he was alive, much less the idea that the hideous Queen had suddenly morphed into his warm, bubbly Rangiku. "I couldn't tell at first, and I had to be sure, you can't _imagine_ all the crazy things that have been happening, I woke up in this strange place with everyone kowtowing to me and even familiar people were acting like they didn't even know me and I went looking but I couldn't find you and then that horrid little Kiku said she'd found someone I'd like and then you were right there in front of me but then I wasn't sure if you were addle-brained like the rest of them and what did you do to your _hair_-!?!"

Impossibly, Hitsugaya found a rough chuckle wrenching out of him as hot tears stung his eyes. "Untie me," he managed, and with a swift gasp Rangiku pulled away, reaching around him to scrabble at his bonds. The moment his hands were loose, he wrapped his arms around her and crushed her to him, choking back a sob of relief as she responded in kind. He never wanted to move from that spot, would have been happy spending the rest of his afterlife breathing her in, but his hindbrain reminded him that they were far from safe.

"Are you okay?" was the first thing he needed to know as he extricated himself just enough to look into her eyes. Warm, blue eyes, the eyes he loved so much, no longer the cold, hard orbs of a stranger.

She nodded, wiping tears from both their faces. "I'm fine, just _confused_. And _freaked out_ - Toshi, I don't know what the hell is going on but something is terribly _wrong_ here..."

"Tell me about it," he grated. He couldn't seem to keep his hands off her, couldn't stop touching her to make sure she was real. "Rangiku?" he asked softly, almost hesitant, but the emotion that flooded her face left no room for doubt.

"Toshi," she wept, kissing him thoroughly.

When he finally came up for air, his aqua eyes were dancing. "Gods above, Rangi, I had no idea you were such a damned good actress - you scared the _shit_ out of me."

She laughed then, shakily. "Well, you scared me too, baka. I was trying to find you, I had _no_ idea you'd be a _brunette_!"

He ran a hand through his tousled hair and its foreign color. "It's supposed to be a disguise," he said lamely. "I'm wanted here, you know."

She shuddered. "You don't want to know _what_ I've been finding out. That Kiku babbles up a storm, and the stuff she's been telling me...you're _never_ going to believe who the freaking King is..."

"I heard," he cut her off abruptly. Then a horrible thought struck him. "You haven't run into him, have you?" Hitsguaya asked quickly, his tone rough with worry, but she shook her head, jewels dancing.

"No, thank the gods. Kiku said he's away on some camapign or something right now. I don't know what I'll do if I have to see that face again..." she shuddered, her face losing color.

Hitsugaya bared his teeth at the very idea. "It gets worse; I can't get to Hyourinmarou."

Her eyes flew open in total shock. "What the hell...are you _serious_?!"

"Of course I am." _As if I'd joke about that_. "Everyone's power has been sealed, how the hell didn't you know that...?" His own eyes widened in shock as she spoke a few words and a sharp breeze suddenly swept the room. The taste of kido and ash filled his mouth. "You..._you've got Heineko!?!"_

"Well, no, I don't know where she is. But I've got reiatsu just fine. _You don't!?"_ she shrieked, but before he could answer she swiftly glowered. "No wonder I couldn't find you by feel. I just assumed all my servants were ordinary souls, and that's why I couldn't sense anyone else...but _how..?!_?"

Hitsugaya swallowed hard, still trying to digest this huge chunk of fortune, and briefly filled her in on Hanataro's story.

Her face was sheet white by the end of his summary. "So, that..._blaze_ to the east is _Gin_!?!" The hands on his forearms trembled. "My gods, Toshi..." she breathed, her eyes glazing over as she sensed out his power. "He's stronger than you can possibly imagine..."

He really didn't want to explore that path, Hanataro's voice echoing in his ears. "None of that matters, 'cause we're getting out of here. Tell me everything you remember..."

"Oh, gods...well," she screwed her face up in thought. "After you passed out," she winced, throwing him an apologetic look, "I fell alseep right next to you, after I got you to bed. Then I woke up when we Shifted..."

"_Shifted_?" Hitsugaya pounced on the word. "What are you talking about?"

"Shifted," she repeated. "You know, that horrible feeling like an earthquake in your gut..." At his confusion her expression instantly switched to consternation. "Damn, I keep forgetting how much later than me you started your training. They used to use this..._dimensional_ thing at the Academy decades ago," she continued patiently. "It seemed that some of the more prominent students were exacting quite a bit of property damage during drills, so the Twelfth developed a way to take students into different, like, _versions_ of Sereitei, in order to train." She shrugged miserably. "I don't know any of the science of it or how it worked exactly, but after Shifting we could pretty much run rampant without any permanent damage. Well," she grimaced. "Not to the location, anyway. Damage to students was all too real."

Hitsugaya was flabbergasted. "I've never even heard of anything like that."

"Well, they discontinued program after a while. Something about instability..." Her brow furrowed as she searched her memory, but then she shook her head. "I don't really remember, it was all technical stuff. I just remember the gut-wrenching Shift. " She shuddered. "Once you feel it, you never forget. _Nothing_ like a tranfer to the Real World."

He remembered all too well the nauseating lurch that had woken him that morning. It seemed like an eternity had passed since then. "So you know where we are!?"

"Well, no. I mean, based on the Shifting, we're in some version of Sereitei, but I've never seen anything like this. Back then, it was only ever a mirror of the real Sereitei. This is..._twisted_." Rangiku shuddered. "It's like some horrible 'What If' scenario..."

That sure as hell was an understatement, but Hitsugaya only cared about one thing. "So how the hell do we get out of here?"

She shrugged helplessly. "I don't know. There was always a member of Twelfth to initiate and oversee the dimensional training sessions; I don't know how they operated it."

_Well, you didn't really expect it to be that easy did you_? No, but he'd hoped...Fine. He still had options. Hanataro was waiting to take him to Ukitake...he glanced at the small window, mouth tightening at the dim light waning through. "Come on, we've got hurry up. Hanataro is waiting, and if we're late..."

"I'm not leaving with you." Hitsugaya gaped at her, but Matsumoto stared back resolutely. "Toshi, I'm a queen here. I can't go anywhere without everyone knowing where I am and what I'm doing. Did you even _see_ my retinue?" He started to protest but she just continued speaking, getting to her feet and twitching her skirts away from the pooling blood of the dead guards. "It's a wonder Kiku hasn't come back yet, actually, she sticks on me like a barnacle. I'd hoped to put the fear of the gods into her with that tantrum, to cover your damning words and to give us some time alone, but she'll come back eventually and if I'm not here all hell will break loose."

He felt like he was floating out of his body. "You're not serious."

"Deadly," Rangiku replied grimly. "The servants are huge gossips, I can learn a lot - how on earth do you think I gleaned enough information to play the wretched Queen? Don't worry, Kiku bombarded me with so many sordid details - you wouldn't _believe_ what this Queen version of me is like, Toshi - that it won't be any trouble to play Her convincingly for a while longer." Before his eyes, Matsumoto regained the coolly regal and thoroughly ugly hauteur she'd so cleverly worn earlier, staring down her nose at him imperiously behind harsh eyes. He shuddered.

"Forget it." He put every ounce of captain's prerogative into his voice that he could. "There's no way I'm letting you out of my sight."

"You don't have a choice, love," she returned firmly. "The only way we can move freely is for you to get the hell out of here and for me to cover for you. If I'm Queen, they won't question me." Hitsugaya shook his head vehemently, but she only glared at him. "Toshi, be serious. As long as I'm royalty I have power that we can use; it's an advantage we cannot give up."

"I can't just let you waltz back to the castle, to the..._King_," Toushirou spat.

"You can and you will." She used a voice he'd only ever heard at training drills; it didn't have the same effect on him as it did on unseasoned trainees, but it did break through his belligerance long enough for him to hear her words. "This will _work_, Toshi. You search for the way out, and posing as this damned Queen, I'll help and protect you in every way that I can. _It's the only thing that makes sense_." Her tone descended into naked pleading as her eyes drilled deeply into his.

"If we split up, I might not find you again."

"Toshi, I'm a goddamn _queen_! You'll _always_ know where I am!" Ragniku's eyes fairly begged him to see reason.

Hitsugaya blew out hard. He didn't like it one tiny bit. In fact, he downright hated it. And the part he hated the most was that she was right.

He hesitated as long as he could, then with a surge of reluctant resignation, Toushirou pulled her tight against him again. After a long embrace, he spoke into her hair. "Be careful. Stay safe. And if Gin comes back..." he pulled back to look earnestly into her eyes. "Run like hell. Just get the flying hell away from him - I'll find you." Her eyes started to well up, but shining brightly from their depths was the iron determination he adored. She nearly broke his heart with her courage. "Ukitake may be somewhere in the castle," he said roughly around the emotions tightening his throat. "See if you can find him, get him to help you. I'll come to you as soon as I find the way out of here."

She nodded, blinking back her tears. "Head east. I had them stop the procession the minute Kiku spoke up, we shouldn't be too far from where they captured you." And then her lips were on his in bittersweet farewell. Hitsugaya broke off long before he wanted to, before he lost all resolve, and with one last, agonized look he nimbly hauled himself through the window and dropped into the growing darkness beyond.

Matsumoto trembled for a moment as his figure disappeared into the gloom. For one instant she had to bite her tongue to keep from calling him back, halt her feet from following him. Stiffening her back, she wrestled herself back into control. _Get a grip, Rankigu_, she told herself harshly. _You're a captain too now, remember? Act like one_. Brushing away the last of her tears, she squared her shoulders and turned on her heel, striding purposefully for the door and settling the Queen's persona around her again.

_"Showtime_," she murmered as she threw the door open and stepped into the light beyond.


	11. The MockTurtle's Tale

Rangiku strode imperiously out of the room, every inch the Queen she was playing.

"We're returning to the castle - this instant." She brushed past servants and guards without a single glance, assuming for all the world that they would obey her without question. And fervently prayed to all the gods in heaven that it worked. 

It did, mostly. The outer guards snapped a salute and hurried off, presumably to ready her palanquin. Her handmaids stared in horror at the blood stains on her skirts but did little more than blanch before they, too, leapt to obey. Well, most of them anyway.

"Majesty," Kiku bowed, still looking shaken from her violent dismissal. Eyes wide and disturbingly sharp, she straightened with a questioning expression. "What has happened? That boy...?"

"Managed to get my sword and kill my soldiers before running for his miserable, pathetic little life," Rangiku spat, putting as much disgusted disdain as she possibly could into her voice. She didn't break stride as she swept down the hallway towards the entrance of the building she had commandeered. "In the future, Kiku, I will hold you personally responsible for leaving me alone in a room with such incompetent guards." That was utterly unfair, but it seemed like something a royal would say so Matsumoto ran with it. She didn't like the way Kiku was looking at her and needed very much to slam the door shut on her curiosity.

"Majesty," Kiku replied with an appropriately submissive bow, the look on her face anything but. Her murmer rang with suspicion. "It's a wonder you were not killed as well..."

Rangiku stopped in her tracks, nailing her servant with a look that had been known to make Squad trainees actually wet themselves. "I am far from helpless, child," she said in a scathingly flat voice, the diamond in her tiara sparkling as fiercely as her hard eyes. "The boy posed no threat to me and onc he realized he was outmatched, he couldn't run fast enough. Still, my skirts have been blood-spattered. Make sure the stains come out or your pay will be docked." She didn't even know if Kiku _got_ paid, but it seemed to hit the mark; she exited the building to Kiku's loud gulp, accepting the girl's hand as she rushed forward to help her onto her conveyance. Settling herself on the soft pillows and brocaded silks, Rangiku casually commanded the shaken girl. "It's late, and I wish to be back at the castle before full dark. See to it, Kiku." The Rangiku-part of her hated being so cruel, but the Matsumoto-part was ready to do anything to distract the little herringbone away from her questions.

Kiku conveyed the message rapidly, turning to bow once more as the palanquin lurched into motion. This time, her expression was properly subdued. "I will also personally see to it that the young criminal is hunted down and brought to face your Justice, Your Majesty." The servant reached to pull back a curtain and murmur her intentions to the guards.

"_No._" Rangiku prayed that the word didn't come out as quickly as she feared it might have, retreating into cold speculation. "No need to waste manpower, or," she let her lips twist wickedly, "a potential paramour, for that matter. It would quite a shame to waste such lovely eyes..." she murmered, letting a positively liscentious grin drift across her face.

Kiku faltered for a moment. "Shall I...mount a search, then...?" She looked confused and slightly desperate.

Rangiku forced her grin to sharpen. "No need, child. After all, the boy _did_ have the chance to kill me, and yet I was spared. You should have seen him in action..." She let her eyes drift off as if in recollection. It wasn't hard; she had decades of memories of her Toshi in action to draw on. "Let him run, for now; I daresay he will not stray for long." She pulled herself back to the present and the very real danger of her predicament, wondering for a moment if she had gone too far. Mentally, she berated herself; if she was going to do this, she had to play it to the hilt. "No, Kiku. Something tells me this one will come to me..." Dangerous, but it just might incite her servants to let Toshi slip into the castle grounds in the future, assuming Kiku could be trusted to gossip about the Queen's interest, and intuition. On that score Matsumoto had little doubt.

That sharp look was back in Kiku's eyes, so Matsumoto let herself sigh and lean luxuriantly back into the pillows. "I'd much rather spend the trip home planning what to do to him when he drifts back into the web." That seemed to get them back on track as Kiku's expression shifted into an ugly little grin. Rangiku forced herself to mirror it back. "Now, how exactly are we going to outdo some of my earlier conquests...?"

That, predictably, launched Kiku into an excited and disturbingly thorough recitation of the Queen's sexual exploits over the last decade, embellished with proposals for improvements, and before long the motion of her carriage was hardly the only thing souring Matsumoto's stomach.

* * *

It was fortunate on several levels that their journey ended with Kiku far too distracted with making the Queen's timeline to continue her diatribe. In the first place, tales of the Queen's doings had all but drained the blood out of Rangiku's face and keeping an expression of horror off her features had her acting skills quite taxed. In the second place, it occurred to Rangiku that if this world was a "what if", then it stood to reason that it was also a "could have been", and that train of thought had been difficult to smother as her mind wanted to drift back over her memories of what Gin had been and, appearantly, could have been capable of.

In the third place...there was the castle. Rangiku had not gotten a proper look at it during their departure earlier that afternoon, as they were heading away from it and it would not have been seemly to peel back the curtains to take a look at what was presumably her home. Now, though...as Kiku hung over the edge of the palanquin, urging the carriers to greater speed and the sun sank low behind the horizon, it was all Matsumoto could do not to gape at the massive structure that filled her vision. It was..._magnificent_. Absolutely breathtaking. Every wall gleamed white with soulstone, and this close it seemed to spread across the entire horizon. The tallest spires easily out-reached even Sougyokou Hill's great height; every rooftop gleamed orange and golden in the sun's setting rays. It managed to be completely overwhelming while somehow feeling inviting as well, as if carefully designed to generate an awe that still suggested accessibility. Genious, really; any commoner would feel elevated at the sight instead of crushed by its splendor. Matsumoto had to hand it to Gin; his skill at undercutting resistance and manipulating the senses clearly had not dulled in whatever dimesion held her trapped.

Drawing inside the castle, as the first stars burned brightly above and the very last shades of light deepend into full night, Kiku seemed to vibrate with fear that she had not accomplished her task, but Matusmoto's ears were still ringing with the girls nauseating stories and found herself in no mood to calm her servant's fears. Without a word, she gathered her voluminous skirts around herself as the palanquin settled to the ground and marched right past the cowering figure. _Gyah_...the things that girl had suggested she do with feathers still had Matsumoto feeling ill. _Although her many uses for handcuffs was admittedly intriguing_...snapping herself out of it, Rangiku realized that she was authoritatively striding along expansive palace hallways as if she owned the place. Which was all well and good, except that she had no idea where she was going. Stopping in her tracks, she turned and glared at Kiku, who had been shuffling along behind her. The command to be led back to her room was on the tip of her tongue but stalled there, as Rangiku noted how strange that would sound and what suspicions such a request would raise in her little barnacle.

An awkward pause followed.

"Majesty?" Kiku inquired, a slight tremor in her voice. Clearly she still had not gotten over fear of reprisal for such a late arrival. "Is there something you desire?"

"Other than a teal-eyed boytoy?" Rangiku answered absently, somewhat pleased with herself that her usual ranchiness, at least, translated well into her assumed role. "Yes," she decided suddenly, remembering Toshi's parting words. She paused, figuring how best to make this work. "Dinner. I wish a seven-course meal delivered to my chambers. See to it personally. And Kiku," she intoned dangerously. "Make sure it is hot. If it is even _slightly_ off temperature..." The paling of Kiku's features was oddly gratifying as she hurried off with a squeak.

_Good_. That should get the horrid little wretch out of her hair for a while; the girl was far too perceptive by half. Whipping around to the meekest-looking of her remaining handmaids, Rangiku snapped another order. "Before I sup, I wish to review our current prisoner tally. One must work up an appetite, you know." The little slip of a girl smiled back tentatively. "Take me there." The new girl was of no mind to question her ruler, and surrounded by her little cloud of maids and bodyguards, Rangiku made her way through the castle, winding down long staircases that got less and less glamorous as the trek went on, until finally a rough wooden door opened before her and led her into the ominous dungeons one would expect to find in a story-book castle designed by a megalomaniac.

Matsumoto made quite a show of strolling through the dank, filthy passageways as if she were inspecting prize-winning steeds, instead of traipsing around a horror-show prison bristling with every kind of miscreant and every torture device imaginable. She stifled a shudder as the prison-keepers eagerly displayed their latest torture methods, all the while keeping a cruel and satisfied expression on her face and wondering if she could get back to her rooms without vomiting. _Just get through this and find Ukitake, Rangiku_, she chanted to herself, urging her servants to move a little quicker and looking everywhere for tell-tale long, white hair.

Ukitake was nowhere to be seen, however, so she finally allowed herself a regal retreat and let herself be led, considerably discouraged (not to mention horrifyingly over-informed on torture methods), back to her chambers. It was only after the doors were thrown open to her immense personal suite and the smells of gourmet food washed over her that Rangiku remembered her orders to Kiku. It wasn't hard, then, to get a devilish twist onto her lips; the servant had probably been sweating blood trying to keep her dinner warm for the last couple of hours. _Ah well_, Rangiku shrugged off the tiny feeling of guilt. _The little sadist deserves that much and then some_...

Dinner was indeed displayed splendidly around the room, and Kiku looked gratifyingly worse for the wear. Eyeballing the arrangement of dishes, Rangiku murmured dismissively. "Leave me. All of you. I wish to dine in peace."

Kiku started, looking rather shocked. Appearantly, eating alone was not something the Queen did often, if at all. "But, Majesty," she stammered. "What about the...?"

Rangiku leveled her with a look. "Did you just say _'but'_? To _me_?" The quiet tone of voice was usually far more frightening than yelling, and Rangiku found it worked just as well here as it did on squad training grounds. Kiku snapped her mouth shut and leapt to obey, shooing out the rest of the guards and servants before closing the doors with one final, unsettling glance.

_Ahhh..._Alone at last. Rangiku stretched, the joints in her back popping in staccato.

_Gods, being royalty is a pain in the ass..._Matsumoto strolled through her room, plucking heavy, uncomfortable rings off her fingers and peering at the steaming cuisine. She _was_ hungry, and while she was still determined to make a thorough search for Ukitake, it wouldn't do to poke around an enormous castle on an empty stomach. Noting absently that there was a course missing (although she was delighted to see more than one jug of sake - _some things never change_, she mused proudly) she turned away from the meal and made a valiant effort to remove her diadem. Several long moments of determined tugging produced no results; the damn thing seemed positively fitted to her scalp, her curls tangling around it all and seeming to hold the headgear in a death-grip. _Well, at least I don't have to worry about the contraption falling off..._

A few more fruitless tugs and out of nowhere large, strong hands appeared to assist her.

"Here, let me help you with that."

With a yelp, Rangiku whirled around and found herself engulfed in thick arms and a huge chest rippling with muscles. A large, broad man was gazing at her suggestively from mere inches away, looking for all the world as if he'd been chisled out of rock. Hell, he _felt_ as if he'd been chisled out of rock, and she couldn't help but notice that his eyes were green. Not Toshi's green - a darker, near-emerald - but still...

He was also wearing a golden collar. And not a stitch else.

And he appeared _more_ than ready to assist in in some..._other_ activities as well.

"Who the hell are you!?!?" she managed to gasp, hardly able to get her wits together.

The roue leaned in, oozing sex appeal. "I'm _dessert_..."

That's about all he managed; an instant later the rake was flying across the room in a wave of kido to thud loudly against the far wall, where he hung mid-air and spread-eagled. Realizing that that wasn't helping matters, really, Rangiku got her breath back and with another word let him drop to the floor. Before she could ask if he was hurt, he grinned at her.

"Your Majesty is _feisty_ tonight..." Good gods, the man actually looked happy at being flung about. Rangiku's stomach twisted; as he moved to get up, another quick burst of kido froze him in place.

"NO!" Rangiku had no idea what to do with this..._erect_ personage. "Get out of here." she commanded sharply. _Hang on, Rangi; the man's not wearing anything and he can't go out...like_ that. "Never mind," she contradicted, flustered. "You stay. _I'll _leave..." Rattled, she turned for the door.

"Where are you going?" There was noticable disappointment in the man's voice.

"Anywhere but _here_," Rangiku muttered, hastily throwing the door open.

"But what about dinn-?"

"Eat it yourself!!" She practically shouted through the door as she slammed it shut, taking off full-speed down the first hall that presented itself. It was only after she was thoroughly lost that Rangiku remembered she'd left the sex god bound in kido and he was probably going to be right where she left him when she got back.

_Oh, just damn all the gods in five hells..._

"Gawh, is _everyone_ in this castle sex-crazed!?" she muttered in sotto, angrily stomping around empty rooms and figuring if she was going to be lost, she might as well look for Ukitake while she was at it. "Dessert. _Psh_!" As if she _would_ want that big, burly brute for dessert. Or _anyone_, for that matter. "Well, Toshi, perhaps." She pictured Toushirou and chocolate, Toushirou and whipped cream, Toushirou covered in various kinds of fruit...absently, she recalled a night involving cheesecake. For the first time in hours, the heated twist to her lips was thoroughly genuine. "_Definitely_ Toshi..."

With such pleasant imagery to keep her company, wandering from room to room became considerably less of a chore. Still, hours later when she finally gave up, even her dirty imagination was little comfort. Growling in frustration, she did a little spin to orient herself; she seemed to be in a long-forgotten library. In distant shadows, a tall, dark-haired servant was carefully dusting books that probably hadn't been read since the room had been built.

Seething with frustration, Rangiku considered her options. Randomly meandering about was hardly the way to conduct a search, and not only was she getting tired but her stomach reminded her in no uncertain terms that she still had not eaten anything. It was risky to ouright _ask_ someone, but she hadn't seen this room before and it seemed to be far away from the royal suites; chances were, this particular servant didn't attend to the King and Queen directly and had little interaction with Kiku or anyone else with whom they could compare notes on odd behavior. In any case, it was worth a try.

Raising her voice, she addressed the library servant. "I don't suppose you'd know where I could find someone by the name of Ukitake? Ukitake Jyuushirou?"

"Your Majesty," replied a voice surprisingly masculine for the slender frame. "You've found him." Settling a book gently into place, the man turned.

It was all she could do not to gasp. The face was his, surely; there was no mistaking those high cheekbones, the nobles lines. In the way of immortal souls, he looked no different than she remembered, although he managed somehow to look _older_, as if he had aged eons in the last decade of this pseudo-world. It was something in his eyes, she decided; they were cold, hard, all hint of openness and warmth gone. Not that he'd wrinkled, but the area around his eyes was drawn and lined, as if something had spent years pinching the skin tight. And his _hair_; it was as she imagined it had looked in his youth, if the drunken stories of Shunsui could be believed. It fell, black and glistening like a raven's wing, down across his shoulders.

A tiny part of her brain wondered if every man she looked for in this world would be sporting uncharacteristically dark hair. Absurdly, she very nearly broke into a giggle.

"You wished something of me, Your Majesty?"

Rangiku realized she was gaping an a very un-royal manner and mentally shook herself. That impervious glint to his eyes caught her off guard as she struggled to regain her facade.

"Yes," she replied in a voice she hoped sounded surer than she felt. "I require your assistance." He just stood there, coldly regarding her, and she realized that she had absolutely no idea what help he was supposed to provide, not yet anyway. Still, Toshi had suggested she find this man, and his help could be useful once they found the way out of here. "I expect you will be available whenever I need you?"

Ukitake bowed slightly, and as he straightened Rangiku realized with a lurch that the flat look in his eyes was barely-contained hatred. "As always, Your Majesty." He turned as if dismissed and started dusting the books again.

Her heart nearly broke, and she found herself blurting out. "Oh, Uki-san - what the hell _happened_ to you?"

He looked at her with unremitting stoicism and only the slightest hint of surprise. "Majesty?"

She tried to cover. "Your..._hair_," she supplied weakly.

His confusion deepened, although the hatred didn't slide a whit. "It changed back to its original color when my reiatsu was sealed." At her goggle-eyed shock, he continued dryly. "Unohana Retsu - surely you remember her, Majesty? - had often hypothesized that my illness was somehow linked to my spirit power." His expression twisted with a gut-wrenching irony. "She would have been gratified to know that she was right."

"So..." It was too much to grasp. "You're..._no longer sick_?"

His expression darkened. "Correct."

"But that's a _good_ thing!" Rangiku erupted. _Gods, I've got to get back tell everyone...what if it could be done..._?!

"Yes, Majesty." The emptiness in Jyuushirou's voice effectively stalled her elation. "I imagine I will live a good long time yet." A muscle in his face twitched, and Ukitake turned back towards the shelves.

She shuddered; there was a complete and utter lack of hope in his tone. What on earth could have happened that would extinguish the warm heart of Ukitake Jyuushirou?

She didn't realize she'd spoken the thought aloud until Ukitake whipped around to face her again, his frame trembling with barely-contained loathing.

"Is it to be the 'innocent-forgetfulness' game tonight, then? Very well; if you do not care to remember the story, then once again I will regale it for you. It is, after all, the only reason your Majesties choose to keep me around." She felt all color draining out of her face as Ukitake slowly stalked towards her. "When Kyouraku Shunsui was captured trying to rescue me, he was interred by your most accomplished Inquisitors. For months I was not permitted to see him, although you made sure I was present for every status report of his breaking. As you were likewise sure that I was present for his public execution." A lump in her throat threatened to suffocate her as those hard, brown eyes filled her vision. "Two thousand years I knew the man, yet what emerged from the dungeons I hardly recognized as human. To this day I do not know how he drew breath after what had been done to him." Rangiku's eyes were burning, but Ukitake's were dry as ice. "Did you know that when you dismember a body, if you cauterize as you go, you can draw the process out for a whole day?" Rangiku shuddered, bile rising in her throat. "The King's personal executioner delivered him, piece by piece, to the foot of the Royal dais while the peasants cheered their throats raw ecstatic at the slow murder of yet another former 'oppressor'. When the sun touched horizon and Shunsui mercifully breathed his last, _it was in my arms_." A violent tremor shook him then, and Rangiku felt as if her chest was splitting open. "When the time came, _he_ died in _my-_!"

"_STOP!!_" The cry tore out of her, and for the tiniest of seconds Ukitake looked taken aback. But, mercifully, he stopped, looking at her without expression as tears poured down her face.

It took several minutes for her to get her sobbing under control. When she did, the air in her lungs burned. "Gods above and below..._he made you watch_?!"

"No, Majesty." The room started to spin as Rangiku's heart shattered. "_You did_."

* * *

She had no memory whatsover of leaving the library, or how she got back to her room. Upon reaching her suite, she only peripherally noted that dinner had been removed, as had the undressed paramour. Stumbling blindly through her tears, she lurched across the room, tearing frantically at her tiara.

_Gods, get me out of here...I don't want to be this Queen anymore...I don't want to learn_ any _more about this place_...

Jewels and curls flew from her hands as she finally ripped the whorls of gold from her head, flinging the crown across the room. Not bothering with her dress, the threw herself miserably onto the enormous bed and collapsed into wracking sobs.

_Toshi, for the love of all that's holy, HURRY_..._get us out of here - this place is too devastatingly sad to exist..._.

Utterly miserable, Rangiku fell into feverish sleep.


	12. Reality Check

_HURRY_. 

Hitsugaya's feet pounded against the cobblestones as he ran like the very wind through the narrow streets of Rukongai. Every time his lithe figure rounded a corner, he would throw a glance over his shoulder at the horizon behind him, green eyes flashing and his mouth tightening in urgency.

_Hurry hurry hurry_...

And he would run just a little bit faster.

_Wait Hanataro...wait, just a little bit longer...I'm on my way..._

After endless twists and turns, Hitsugaya exploded out into the large square in which he'd first seen the seething throng a liftetime ago and, with hardly a hitch in his step, he veered in the direction of the small building with a bevined trellis.

_That's _got _to_ _be it..._

He threw himself into the alleyways beyond, going more by instinct than memory, willing himself to move even faster as his breath came ragged and the sun started to slip down behind the buildings. It seemed to sink faster the lower it got, and as Hitsugaya finally slid to a halt next to a familiar-looking pile of bricks, he whirled around to see that the glowing orb was already gone behind the highest buildings. As the dust stirred up by his passage slowly settled to the ground, it was painfully clear in the growing gloom that he was all alone in the pathway.

Hitsugaya cursed silently. _How long as the sun been down? When did Hanataro give up and leave? Maybe he's not too far yet_...Hitsugaya drew in a ragged breath to shout but it caught in his throat at a tiny sound behind him.

"You sure like to cut it close, don't you Hitsugaya Toushirou?" Hanataro emerged from a shadow looking almost angry.

"You don't know the half of it," Hitsugaya gasped, sagging in relief. Putting his hands on his knees, he crouched for a moment to catch his breath. Physical exertion was considerably different without reiatsu to draw on or shunpo to employ, and on top of his exhaustion he was dismayed to realize he was hungry again.

Hanataro approached him somewhat warily. "So, did you find what you were looking for?"

"You could say that," Hitsugaya wheezed, too tired to explain himself and more pressing matters on his mind. "Urahara?"

Hanataro's expression was caution mixed with curiosity but he knew better than to stand around talking in a darkening alleyway. "_Hai_. This way - assuming we're not too late already." He turned without another word and slipped away.

After a moment, Hitsugaya staggered after him into the deepening night.

* * *

If travelling through Rukongai was confusing by day it was a thousand times harder by night. Hitsugaya had to struggle to keep Hanataro in his sight; the boy seemed to have an uncanny ability to blend into the shadows, disappearing behind rubble and half-fallen buildings nearly every time Hitsugaya blinked. At one point, frustrated, he'd growled at the boy to be more visible.

"I _am_ being visible," Hanataro had returned with a minute glare. "If I were even half-trying, you wouldn't be able to follow me at all."

It hadn't taken long for Hitsugaya to realize that Hanataro wasn't boasting and as full night settled in around them it was all Hitsugaya could do to keep up in the lengthening shadows.

Finally, after hours had passed and full dark had enshrouded them, they cut through an empty, dilapidated building, Hanataro slowing with caution and motioning for Toushirou to avoid glittering patches of broken glass on the floor. All around them, strange shapes arranged on tabletops twisted in the darkness and as Hanataro came to a halt and dropped into a crouch ahead of him, Toushirou slid up next to him with a whisper.

"Are we close?"

Hanataro's face tightened. "We're here." He rustled around in his cloak for a minute, producing a tiny object. A quick motion and the match scratched into life; its feeble light was enough to show eyes accustomed to total darkness the emptiness of a room that had clearly been recently occupied. In fact, it looked as if a small laboratory had stood there, gadgets and contraptions littered about table surfaces and racks of test tubes stacked high. Several of them appeared to have been tipped over, explaining the glass crunching under their feet. The room was permeated with the faint smell of chlorine and gunpowder.

Hitsugaya's heart sank. "He's not here," he obviated grimly.

Hanataro's eyes glittered hotly. "You _are_ a genious, aren't you?"

Hitsugaya swallowed an angry retort; Hanataro had the right to be frustrated. After all, it was his own risky maneuver that had delayed them so long... "What do we do now?"

Hanataro sighed and stood up, glancing poigniently around the abandoned room. "We go home. And wait for Urahara to lay a new trail." He unceremoniously blew out the light.

Hitsugaya followed suit, rising to his feet and brushing dust off his knees. "How long will that take?"

"Dunno, depends on how much caution he needs to employ. Three, four days. A week, maybe..." Hanataro trailed off, the bleak tone returning to his voice.

Hitsugaya gave a sharp shake of his head. _A week...with Matsumoto in the castle and Ichimaru only the gods know where..._

_He could come back at any minute_. "Hanataro, that's not good enough. I can't wait that long."

Hanataro threw him a cutting look full of suspicion. "Why is it you need to see him immediately?" he asked quietly.

"Because Matsumoto's in danger, and because we don't _belong_ here!" Hitsugaya very nearly shouted.

"What do you mean, the Queen's in danger? Did you actually _see_ her?" Hanataro's gaze sharpened. "And survived to return?"

"Yes, of course, do you think I would be here if she didn't let me go?" Hitsugaya glared right back. "But she's not-"

The rest got lost in a loud whoosh of air as something slammed Hitsugaya up against the nearest wall. A bright light flooded the room, blinding him and setting his vision swimming; he shook his head to clear it, unable to see what was binding his limbs and holding him fast. He struggled for a moment but couldn't budge even a millimeter...

"I see what you mean, Hanataro. It is..._concerning_, to say the least."

At the silken voice, Hitsugaya managed to clear his head enough to see grey eyes regarding him keenly through tousled locks of flaxen hair. Urahara detached himself from a deep shadow and watched him for a long moment before speaking again. "Well, you have found me, Hitsugaya Toushirou, or whoever you are. What do you want of me?"

Hitsugaya tried once again to struggle against his invisible bonds. Again with no result. "Let me loose," he hissed through clenched teeth.

"No." Urahara refused solomnly. "You sought me, and here I am. I will answer any questions you ask. Certainly you do not require bodily movement to pose your queries." The grey orbs narrowed and Urahara's expression became nothing less than deadly serious. "I will not release you until I am convinced you are not an infiltrator." The corners of his lips curved up grimly. "We've had a little spot of trouble with imposters of late, so I will be more than happy to unbind you," Urahara's voice dropped dangerously, "as soon as you prove to me who you really are."

_God_damn_ it. Goddamn all the fucking hollows in fucking Hueco Mundo_... "I can't do that," Hitsugaya gritted his teeth tightly.

Urahara took a step closer. "Why?"

"Because. I'm not. From. Here." Hitsugaya thought he would chew his own tongue off in frustration.

"Interesting. And where _exactly_ are you from?" Toushirou had never found Urahara's grin more irritating.

Hitsugaya swallowed past a lump in his throat. He closed his eyes, drawing deep breaths to calm himself and wishing, for the umpteenth time, that he had Hyourinmarou to lean on.

_Patience_, he told himself, hearing in his own internal voice echoes of the old ice dragon. _Take your time. Find your words. Get to the goddamned point_...

When Hitsugaya opened his eyes, he was calm once again.

"What if Gin was not King?" Hitsugaya pitched his voice low, urgent. "What if he did not vanquish Aizen? What if _we_ did?" He let some heat enter his tone. "Imagine a world where the Gotei 13 _won_ against the forces of evil. Imagine a world where justice prevailed and peace reigns. Imagine a world," Against his strongest will, a hitch slipped into his voice. "Where Matsumoto Rangiku not only _killed_ Ichimaru, but rose to take his place. _That_ is where I am from." Toushirou let every ounce of ice-cold resolve available to him permeate his gaze as silence blanketed the room. "And I will destroy Heaven and Earth if that's what it takes to get back." His limbs trembled with supressed fury. "Now, is _that_ something an imposter would say?"

The silence drew out for several moments before Urahara spoke again. "A lofty goal. And though you are passionate, it proves nothing..."

"What if I told you we Shifted here!?" Hitsugaya growled, reaching desperately for anything to get through to the man.

Urahara stilled. "_Shifted_...?"

"I spoke with Matsumoto - the _real_ one - barely hours ago, and she said that we Shifted here, that it's some kind of training dimension gone wrong, and _goddamn_ it, all I need is the fucking _way out_..!!"

"Hanataro," Urahara broke in abruptly. "Check the perimeter. This location is far from secure and the person in question is making quite a ruckus." Hanataro made to protest, but Urahara cut him off. "_Now_, please, Yamada. The prisoner is quite secure."

With a reluctant look, Hanataro glared impotently for a moment before vanishing into the shadows.

Once he was gone, Urahara took a step towards Hitsugaya. "Now, tell me _exactly_ what you know about Shifting."

It wasn't much, but Toushirou relayed what Matsumoto had told him. Urahara was quiet for a long time.

"A Sphere." Urahara wore an enigmatic expression at the pronouncement. "You're inside a Training Sphere."

Hitsugaya let out a breath he hadn't known he was holding. "Urahara, _tell me what that is_."

An oddly sad expression stole over the older man. "It is something I invented, not too long ago, to provide a secure and protected enviornment in which students could train."

_Okay, okay. Now we're getting somewhere_. "What do you mean, 'not too long ago'? Urahara, you've been banished since long before I was Captain..." Hitsugaya quieted at the surprise in Urahara's eyes.

"Banished?" The man actually looked shaken. "What do you mean, _banished_?"

Hitsugaya swallowed. "I don't know, the details are closely guarded. But it is well known that you were exiled-" His voice caught at the obvious anguish in grey eyes. "A long time ago." A silence passed. "Frankly, I was surprised to see you here at all."

Urahara seemed to take that in. "Exiled..." The man's gaze unfocused as he considered that information. Endless moments passed. Hitsugaya cleared his throat, which seemed to bring Urahara back. His grey gaze snapped up to meet Toushirou's fiery aqua one.

"Urahara, please believe me..." He didn't care if he sounded like a stark raving lunatic - Toushirou launched into a full-fledged accounting of everything that had happened, _really_ happened, in the last decade of Sereitei. Urahara watched him closely as Hitsugaya told him everything, from Gin's defeat to Hinamori's execution, to the events that had unfolded after that - the rebuilding of the squads, the slow piecing-back-together of Soul Society, even his developing relationship with Rangiku. When he got to her appointment to Captain and the celebration that ensued, emotion overtook him and he finally halted, his hoarse throat incapable of continuing. Hitsugaya couldn't even guess as to how many hours had passed during his recitation.

For an endless moment Kisuke's look disseminated him. Finally, he spoke. "I believe you." Urahara straightened suddenly, and an instant later Hitsugaya regained full mobility. An odd contraption, all thread-thin wires and steel-strong filaments, fell to the floor as Toushirou rubbed feeling back into his extremities. After a long moment, Urahara seemed to draw himself together. Every bit the wise sensei, he launched into a practiced lecture.

"A Training Sphere is a totally encapsulated and completely maniputable mini-dimension." Urahara's voice took on a tutorial aire, and unwilling to question his luck Toushirou listened eagerly. "Controlled to an infinite degree by a Moderator, it can perfectly replicate any desired environment. Its official use was to establish barren and unihabited versions of Sereitei in which promising students could explore their emerging powers with impunity. Of course," Urahara's voice dropped conspiratorially. "That was only ever a tiny facet of it's true capabilities."

"Uninhabited?" Hitsugaya rubbed his wrists. "Urahara, this world is clearly inhabited..."

"Yes," The sadness in Urahara's voice brought Hitsugaya up short. "It is possible for a Moderator to establish an inhabited Sphere. But in the past that has proved..._complicated_."

Hitsugaya felt his eyes screw shut. "Urahara, for gods sake, please make some sense..."

"A Moderator establishes a Sphere," Urahara explained. "The Moderator has complete and total control over everything that happens within it. He defines the parameters of that world and, once set into motion, the Sphere operates within those parameters. That much is incontrovertible." Urahara's voice intensified. "Once you introduce the presence of sentient beings into a Sphere, however...it changes those rules."

"Why...?"

"Sentient beings, real or imaginary, cannot be controlled. Even those souls within a Sphere operate according to the Universal Law of Free Will." Hitsugaya shuddered at the immutability in Urahara's voice. "Free Will cannot be curbed or controlled no matter what environment you create."

Hitsugaya's mind reeled with that information. "So..._someone_ established a Sphere, trapped Matsumoto and I inside it, and what - _changed_ it to suit them?" Realization slammed into him. "He changed only one thing," he breathed. "_Gin's defeat_." _Oh gods, it makes perfect sense_... "Just that _one thing_ changed, and everything else extrapolated from there..."

"That would be the logical assumption." Urahara looked weary.

Hitsugaya felt his head starting to ache. "Matsumoto said these things were discontinued..."

With a small sigh, Urahara spoke. "In its original conception, it was designed only to simulate unihabited versions of reality for training purposes. But some," his face twisted in disgust, "were determined to use it to run projectional scenarios. Inhabited ones, often with disastrous results." Urahara's eyes blanked momentarily. "That is all I know, so anything that developed from there happened after this Sphere's conception. It only makes sense that their true capabilites were finally understood and the Spheres were dismantled."

"At least _one_ clearly wasn't." Something tickled the back of Hitsugaya's brain, but it didn't emerge at his diligent probing and the young captain chose to focus instead on the most important of details. "Urahara - _how do we get out?"_

"Unless you yourself are the Moderator, there are only two ways out of a Sphere," Urahara declared, regaining some of his poise. "Either locate and utilize the failsafe - which was established for every Sphere as an emergency exit in case something happened to the Moderator - or utterly incapacitate the Moderator himself, at which point the Sphere will dissolve." He looked at Hitsugaya expectantly.

_Simple enough._ There was almost no way at all to know who the Moderator was, so... "Where can I find this failsafe?" Hitsugaya asked cautiously.

"You've found it," Urahara declared with a goofy grin. "_I_ am the failsafe."

Hitsugaya gaped. "You...you're kidding."

"Nope," Urahara chirped. "I am hard-wired into every Sphere, complete with a full working knowledge of the Spheres' capabilities and limitations and armed with the ability to exit one."

It took Hitsugaya a moment to start breathing again. "_You can get us out of here_!?"

Urahara held up a finger. "Correction - I was designed to provide a way out. I know the exact combination of kido commands that will disintegrate the Sphere." He paused heavily.

Hitsugaya's heart sank to his toes. "Which you cannot do with your reiatsu sealed." His voice was leaden.

Urahara nodded slowly. "It is a scenario I appearantly did not consider when designing the failsafe."

Hitsugaya scrubbed his hands slowly across his face. He felt like he was a million years old. "Kisuke, what the hell do I _do_, then?"

"Either find the Moderator and incapacitate him," Urahara replied almost cheerfully, "or get me into the castle to retrieve a ModSoul."

Hitsugaya looked up sharply. "A ModSoul? What for-?"

"A ModSoul is a contained faux-spirit being with access to spirit power," Urahara replied. "It doesn't house a _lot_ of power, but the reiatsu it can access will probably be enough for me to establish a momentary exit. On top of that, they were most likely in a state of suspended animation during the Emancipation and therefore unaffected by Gin's Seal." He grinned with near glee. "Consider it a reiatsu 'battery', of sorts." The analogy seemed to delight him as he chortled happily. "Of course," he continued in a more sober tone, "getting into the castle has proved impossible for the last decade as yet, so I wouldn't get your hopes up..."

_Matsumoto_. "I can get inside the castle," Hitsugaya declared with heated conviction.

"Ah, even if you could, how would know know where to look? It's been years since the structure was built over the remains of Sereitei, and none of us knows the layout..." Urahara was interrupted by a shuffling sound behind him. As one, Urahara and Hitsugaya swung around towards the open door.

"_I can show you the layout_." Two figures slowly emerged from the shadows.

"Shuuhei!!" Hitsugaya goggled as Urahara crossed the room anxiously.

Hisagi was draped over Hanataro's shoulder and accepted Urahara's help gratefully as he staggered into the room. The man was barely recognizable under various bruises and wounds, and he looked as if he hadn't slept in weeks. The tattooed numbers stood out starkly on his sallow cheek as he slumped gratefully into a chair.

Urahara gazed at him intently as Hanataro started probing his wounds. "You were detained?"

"Not exactly," Hisagi croaked, losing himself in a long fit of rough coughs. When he'd regained his breath, he continued. "I got the lower levels mapped out, but ran into a little trouble with some of the dungeon keepers." His eyes shadowed over at the memory. "I was lucky - they just wanted some sport and didn't bother making me an official prisoner, but it took a couple of days to get away from them. When I did, I headed straight here..." Another shudder wracked his body as Hanataro starting pulling herbs and medicines out of his cape. "I didn't know I'd be crashing such a party," He managed a wan grin. "I heard enough, though - you need to get into the castle?"

"_Yes._" Hitsugaya would have felt bad about asking a service of such a grievously wounded man, but since none of this world was technically real... "Urahara and I both need to get into the ruins below the castle. You can lead us there?"

Hisagi regarded him for a long moment with hard eyes. "If I do, you honestly believe you can end the Emancipation?"

_I'll do better than that - I'll end this whole reality_... "Yes," Hitsugaya replied with resolve.

A long moment passed while Hisagi searched his face. Something in Hitsugaya's eyes decided him. "Then I will take you." He dissolved into another agonized coughing fit.

Hanataro grunted admonishingly. "You can hardly _walk_, Shuuhei."

"_Ha_!" Hisagi barked harshly. "If it means the end of Gin's reign, Yamada, then I will find the strength to run." It didn't take much to see by his eyes that he meant it.

"How soon do you think you'll be able to leave?." Real or not, Hisagi clearly needed rest and even a fake person would do him little good if he collapsed. Hitsugaya swallowed his frustration. _It's_ _okay - the way out is close now_... "A few hours...?"

"No," Hisagi managed, brushing away Hanataro's ministrations. "Not today. It's not safe with the King in house."

Histugaya felt his skin go cold. "The King? I thought he was far to the east..." He trailed off, all the blood draining out of his face as Hisagi shook his head.

"He got back before dawn." Hisgai motioned weakly towards the window, which was showing the first rays of early sunlight. "I heard his arrival announced as I was sneaking past the guards..."

Hitsugaya felt the room go fuzzy as he tried to quell his panic.

_Oh gods oh gods oh gods..._

_MATSUMOTO_


	13. Nightmares

Hitsugaya hadn't felt so desperately helpless since...well, since he'd sat for weeks on end at a bedside in the Fourth division, waiting for Matsumoto to return to him. His hands worked themselves in and out of fists as he threw an agonized look at Urahara. 

Kisuke seemed to understand everything in that one glance and without turning he spoke over his shoulder. "We must take the risk, Hisagi, and breach the castle grounds as soon as possible." At the startled protest by Shuuhei and Hanataro both, Urahara raised his voice over them. "Hitsugaya has brought something to my attention, something that will spell the end of the Emancipation once and for all." The almost sad irony in Kisuke's eyes made Hitsugaya gulp. "You must take us immediately and help me search the catacombs for the key to ending Gin's reign." Their gaze held for a moment longer, and Hitsugaya nodded in respectfully; failsafe or no, imaginary or not, Kisuke was agreeing to help end this pseudo-world along with himself and everyone in it. It was a death of sorts, and he was embracing it without rancor. Kisuke's sad grin in return said more than enough; _this world wasn't worth living in anyway.._.

Hisagi noticed the unspoken exchange even if he didn't know the full meaning of it, and a look of strained suspicion crept onto his face. "Kisuke, you know how dangerous that is, with the King and Queen both in residence?"

"The Queen won't be a problem," Hitsugaya stated firmly, before he could catch the minute shake of Urahara's head. It wasn't lost on Shuuhei, however, who shot an angry look at Urahara.

"What is he talking about? What is going on here?" the man growled, a fury in his eyes that Hitsugaya had never seen before, jabbing at thumb in his direction. "Is he entertaining thoughts of rescuing her again? Because I am not about to risk my life getting him into the castle for a lost cause..."

"Hitsugaya is quite correct; we can assume the cooperation of the Queen, for reasons I cannot explain to you." Urahara's tone brooked no nonsense, echoes of the captain he once was ringing in his voice. Shuuhei's mouth worked angrily and while he didn't argue or ask questions, he was clearly not pleased with this development.

"He's right, Shuuhei-san," Hanataro's quiet voice broke the tension. He took a slow step forward, arms held slightly out in a placating gesture. "I don't understand it either, but he was captured by the Queensguard earlier and she helped him escape. I don't know why, but the Queen _will_ help us." He met Shuuhei's fierce glare with a firm expression that was oddly disarming.

After a long moment, Shuuhei blew out harshly. Shaking his head, he lasered Urahara with one last glare. "I hope you know what you're doing." He turned and stalked out of the room without further discussion.

Hitsugaya traded glances with Urahara. "Thanks," he muttered gratefully, turning to Hanataro as well. "You, too."

Hanataro shrugged. "It'll be your lives on the line anyway. I'm not coming with you."

Hitsugaya started in surprise. "Why not?"

"Because I've got to stay behind with my patients," Hanataro replied as he headed after Shuuhei. "I don't know my way around the Queen's wing, and Shuuhei's job was to scout the catacombs, he doesn't know the layout of the rest of the castle like the other scouts do. We each took turns and have our areas of expertise."

Following him through the empty building with Urahara bringing up a silent rear, Hitsugaya pondered that. "So, who's the expert on the Queen's area?"

"You are," Hanataro replied, turning. "You and Hinamori."

_So the only person who can lead me to Matsumoto is...?_ Hitsugaya gritted his teeth. "Fine. Let's just do this. It's high time we ended this nightmare."

On that, and for differing reasons, they all agreed.

_

* * *

_

_Ranigku was dreaming._

_She_ had _to be dreaming._

_In a sea of pitch-black darkness, a ghost was standing before her. Half-man, half-monster, with eyes of fire and the sun held in his fist. It just stood there looking at her without saying a word, and she could hardly breathe past the ice locked in her chest. She smothered for an eternity before she found the breath to speak._

_"Gin...?"_

_He didn't answer, but he was smiling at her, pale hair draped limply across his forehead. Out of the great host of Soul Society, Rangiku probably knew Ichimaru's smiles the best. And this was one that she had never seen before._

_For some reason that terrified her._

_Slowly, she backed away. "You're not Gin..." she breathed, her voice whispy with fear. _

_The man who was not Gin just smiled._

_"You're not Gin!" she screamed._

_She turned and ran and ran and ran, but that smile, that unrecognizable smile was always in front of her and her feet wouldn't move fast enough. Sometime, she didn't know when, she realized she was stark naked and running through a thick fog that obscured everything but that damned smile..._

_Without warning she slammed into a wall, crystal-clear and impenetrable. It curved away into the darkness like a giant globe, with her on the inside, and she was trapped. And that_ thing _was after her, closing in. After a frantic moment Matsumoto balled up her fists and began to pummel the glass wall in desperation._

_It gonged, like a bell, the sound growing with every full-armed blow and before long the resonance built and reverberated loudly enough to hurt her ears. Crying out in pain, she stopped her assault and clamped her hands to the side of her head. Something told her that if she kept on hammering at it the glass would shatter and slice her to ribbons, destroying her utterly and sending her into Oblivion..._

With a jerk, Matsumoto woke up.

For a long moment she didn't know where she was. Her ears were still ringing, her eyes thick with unshed tears. Late morning sunlight was streaming through delicate lace drapes; the rich, lush furnishings and gleaming gold filligree around her, not to mention the silken dress wrapped tightly around her twisted and sweaty limbs, brought the recent bizarre events of the last day slamming back. She squeezed her eyes shut and willed herself to go back to sleep, nightmare or not...

"_Good mornin'."_

Rangiku froze.

She would have sold her very soul to still be dreaming. But Matsumoto Rangiku was no fool and dead sober besides, and with a sickening twist in the pit of her stomach she knew that she was very, very awake. She stilled in a way that she hadn't done in decades, a sharp, almost-forgotten terror slivering down her spine.

_No no no, oh gods NO. It can't be, I can't feel anyone...as strong as he is there is no way he could have gotten close without me_ feeling _him..._She couldn't begin to sort through the dozens of different horrors that rose up and threatened to choke her. A tiny tear slid down her cheek as a torrent of emotions ripped through her.

_Gods above and below, I've done nothing to deserve ever hearing that voice again_.

With a slow, deep wrench, Rangiku turned her head, peering through the curtain of her tousled, auburn locks...

Brilliant blue met glittering, garnet eyes.

"I see you're finally awake, my Queen."

_That smile...it's the same goddamned smile_...Rangiku swallowed a wave of nausea as she slowly forced the dream away and willed her vision to clear. As she blinked, she didn't see Gin's slender hand until it was brushing the hair off her face, the motion unexpectedly gentle. The soft gesture seared her like a branding iron and it took all of her sanity not to jerk away from the touch. Instinctively, she reached for a slew of kido spells, both defensive and offensive...

And nearly screamed as she came upon absolute, utter emptiness. _It's gone_, she panicked inside her head. _This must be what Toshi meant...what the-!? Where did my reiatsu go...!?!_ All of which passed in an instant as she stared in horror at the figure sitting on the edge of the bed, a golden crown intricately worked into his pale lavender hair.

Matsumoto had never in her life felt more helpless.

Gin smiled at her calmly, seemingly unaware of her torment. "There, there, didja have a bad dream?"

_I wish to all the gods I was having one right now_... With a laborious gulp, Rangiku tried to get her voice to work. She dug deep within herself to draw breath. "No, of course not..." _Oh gods merciful and cruel, tell me this cannot be...why can't I_ feel _him!?_

Ichimaru chuckled warmly. "You are not being truthful, my Sweet. I can tell you are upset about something." Rangiku's face went cold as all the blood seeped out of it. "Perhaps you were missing me?"

_Yuh. That must be it_. Matsumoto labored for the composure to get into character, her brain scrambling for an answer.

Gin's grin deepened into something almost familiar. "Ahhh, I don' think it was _me_ you were missin'..."

Rangiku could swear her heart stopped beating.

Gin slowly drew his other hand out from behind him. "Perhaps...you were missin' this?" In slow-motion, he proffered something poised on his palm, the bent frame of her crown catching the morning sun. The goose-egg diamond glittered harshly in the light.

Rangiku very nearly sagged with relief. _Gods, I thought he meant Toshi_... "Yes," she managed to croak. _Sure. Whatever_. She reached out and carefully took it from his hand.

The instant her skin touched the diadem, something other than relief flooded her. She had to bite her tongue to keep from crying out with joy as her reiatsu slammed into her.

_What the hell...?_

The large diamond sparkled poignently at her as Rangiku's extant spirit power surged through her. Gazing at the display of faceted light as if it were very nearly sentient, the pieces of the puzzle suddenly slammed into place.

_So_ that's _why I have spirit power..._She had never heard of an object that could harness reiatsu like this, but far be it from her to question the obvious. She glowed with something very near exultation, and she could almost hear Heineko growling...

The victory was short-lived. She might have her power back, but all it did was prove to her that had she succeeded in getting a spell off, it would have gotten her nowhere. Gin's power very nearly unhinged the room as it roiled off him in intoxicating waves. It seethed with the raw force of a barely-contained ocean, and it was all she could do to draw breath normally. Her own power, albeit captain-level, was reduced to utter insignificance. Any attack would have been futile, a gnat buzzing around a behemoth. Her gaze dropped to Gin's waist, where the pommel of his sword could just barely be seen behind silken robes. The Hougyokou caught an errant sunbeam, and for an instant it glittered in perfect counterpoint to her diamond. Matsumoto shivered, a hundred questions racing through her mind.

Still, any spirit power was better than none, and feeling slightly less disadvantaged Rangiku finally managed to draw some shreds of illusion around her and slip a hopefully regal look into her expression. The relief she didn't have to fake, and she banked on it being enough to fool Gin. She made herself look back at those red eyes, letting a coy look drift into her own.

Gin grinned at her knowingly. "There now, that's better, ain' it?" Gently unwinding the crown from her grip, he placed it back on her head whispering softly, the sound slippery and barely audible. The two gems twinkled in unison again, and Rangiku shivered as she felt the diadem unbend, twisting to mould itself to her head, twining its golden strands back into her curls as if it were alive. Once it was secure, Gin's chant drew to a halt.

"There - it won' go anywhere now. Can't risk it fallin' off again, ne?" Gin smiled at her, cupping her chin to look with unnerving concern into her eyes. "It was all I could do to get back here, as soon as I felt its power diminish. I was afraid some meany had taken it from you, but it looks like you did it all by yourself, silly thing. " He turned and rose, crossing the short distance to the glass doors and throwing the lace curtains open. "And here I never thought to see you without it on. You musta been having one terrible bad dream..." As he turned back to her, his face was lost in shadow behind the harsh backlighting. A moment passed laced with his quiet amusement. "Wanna tell me about it?"

Rangiku inhaled. _This is it - do or die_. "I wouldn't dream of boring you with the details, my Lord Husband," she purred with a disarming flutter of her eyelashes, rather impressed with herself at the poise she managed. She prayed to heaven that that was the correct way to address him. _Gods only know Kiku repeated it often enough_...

It seemed to work. "I can tell yer happy to see me. I know I wasn' expected quite yet, but I couldn' stay long from your side..." He bounded towards her, dropping onto the bead and leaning in.

Rangiku employed all of her abilities to hide the shudder that ran through her as Gin kissed her forehead softly. "I am glad to see you, Lord-..."

"Bah, quit bein so formal Ran-san. It bores me." Gin frowned slightly, almost a pout, before a new grin broke out. "The campaign to the east was so dreafully tiresome, and I wan' nothin more than a littl' entertainment. Don' you?"

She managed a simpering grin and leaned langorously on one shoulder. "Mmm, of course. What do you have in mind?" The syrupy sweetness in her voice was positively cloying.

In an blink, Gin was leaning over her, his lean frame pinning her to the bed and his garnet eyes flashing inches away from her own. "I was thinkin' we coul' start with a proper 'welcome home'..." His lips hovered a breath away from hers, and she desperately hoped that the hitch in her breath would be taken for desire and not the utter revulsion that was coursing through her.

The instant before Gin's lips touched hers, there was a sickening wrench; the whole room seemed to twist in on itself, and Rangiku could hear the ear-splitting sound from her dream somewhere in the back of her head. It was only a moment, but when the sort-of-earthquake ceased there was dead-silence. Rangiku tried to steady her disorientation; it felt like she had been turned inside out. _What_ was _that? It was almost like a Shift, but..._

Something broke off her thought, and she looked up into red eyes that were as shocked as hers must have been. _Gin felt it too_...? "What was that?" she couldn't keep the question from her lips.

"I don't know," Gin expression flattened into a hard grimace that she had never seen before. Something about it scared her. "_And in my world, I know everything_." His eyes flashed with anger, and against all probablility Rangiku felt the power-level in the room leap up another order of magnitude. As he got to his feet, Ichimaru very nearly towered over her, god and King in full measure, and Rangiku felt a shiver of fear slide down her spine. "Probably nothin' more than some of the outlaws makin' a scene, but...can' be too careful." He turned then, his expression softening for a moment as he gently touched her chin. "Stay here, where I can be sure you're safe. I'll send for you as soon as I have everything under control again." A tiny, surprising smile, and he turned and strode for the door.

As he swept out of the room, a figure detatched itself from a shadow and moved to follow him. Large and broad, the person was dressed in all-black robes and sported an elaborate headgear; conical and draped with a thick, black cloth that trailed down to broad shoulders, it blocked any and all view of his facial features; he looked for all the world like a headsman. Hand on hilt, the creature moved with terrifying fluidity after the king without so much as a whisper of sound.

_Gin's got a bodyguard?_ she wondered absurdly, as the door slid shut behind them. _With all his power, why would he need._...?

"_Rangiku_!"

She nearly leapt out of her skin at the urgent whisper. Whipping her head around, she glimpsed green eyes staring at her through the lace drapes.

"Toshi!" She was off the bed in a flash, her eyes swiftly searching the room to make sure no one else was hiding in dark corners; resonable assured, she threw open the window. "What are you doing here, are you _mad_!? Gin was just here-"

"I know." Toushirou's voice was strained. "I saw him- trying to..."

"Oh, gods, Toshi, he's my _husband_ here, what did you expect?" Fear made her words harsher than she intended, but she had no time to smooth things over. "If he sees you here, he'll kill you..."

"He's just as likely to kill you, and you know it!" Toushirou hissed back, grabbing her wrist and trying to pull her with him. "You need to come with me - _now_!"

"I can't-" Hitsugaya ignored her, grabbing her wrist and nearly pulling her through the window into the private garden outside her room. Rangiku ground her teeth in frustration. _Fine, if he won't listen, then I'll have to show him_. Without a word, she shifted his grip, forcing his palm open and upwards to slap against the diamond on her crown.

The temperature dropped instantly as Hitsugaya's eyes flew open. "_Hyourin-!?!"_

She was too busy with the surge of ice water that was suddenly ripping through her veins. With a curse, Matsumoto yanked his hand off; the surge of reiatsu that had slammed through her as Toushirou pulled, just for an instant, on his own spirit power, had her teeth rattling in her gums. "This is how I have spirit power," she grated weakly, trying to get her blurred vision to clear.

He stared at the diamond almost hungrily. "Matsu- good gods, this is _perfect_! Give it to me, and I can get us out of here in a heartbeat..."

"I _can't_," she replied grimly. "Gin can tell if I'm not wearing it. Hell, it's the whole reason he's back here now - I managed to get it off last night before I knew what it was." She felt a moment of guilt at Hitsugaya's feverish gaze on her diadem; she could imagine all too well how torturous it must be to be within reach of your reiatsu and have it snatched away after only a taste. But she didn't have time to dwell on it; a wave of shimmery heat at her back took her barely a second to realize that Gin's power was shifting. Moving. And it was coming closer.

"Oh, gods, he felt you draw on it." Her faced paled as she cursed herself for an idiot. "You have to go. _Right now_. If he finds you..." She broke off with a shudder as Ukitake's recount from the night before echoed in her mind. _He made you watch..._ Suddenly she was fighting tears as she shoved Toushirou with unexpected vigor towards the shadows of a garden hedge.

"Matsumoto, come with me...Urahara's not far from here..." Toushirou was tugging on her arm again, but Gin's power was drawing closer, and he was moving awfully damned fast...

"Toshi, _stop_!" She yanked back, glaring at him. "See reason! I have reiatsu - _he can feel me_!" Tosuhriou tugged again, more urgently, but she dug in her heels. "_It's connected to the Hougyokou!"_ That halted Hitsugaya just enough for her to get her point across. "It _draws_ from it, Toshi! _That's_ how I have power. He knows exactly where I am, _at all times_, and if you're with me he can home in on you - on _any_ of you - like a beacon!!"

Hitsugaya just growled. "Matsumoto," he growled, with something in his tone reminding her that he had been, until very recently, her captain. He sounded like he wanted to issue a command and was hating that he couldn't. "Urahara is in the catacombs, and _he can get us out of here_. All he needs is reiatsu, and if you've got that diamond with you," his green eyes flashed. "We can be home safe before Gin even knows what's happening."

"Then you'll have to bring him to me." She didn't have time to ask questions; Gin was at the damned door, she could feel it. "Wait here, and _hide_ goddamn it!!" One final shove and he was out of sight in the bushes. "I'll be back in a moment..."

"Matsu- what are you doing!?" Hitsugaya managed one last desperate whisper before she slammed the window shut.

"_I'm going to distract Gin_." She muttered to herself with a grim set to her jaw and a toss of her curls just as the door flew open.


	14. Tug of War

Rangiku just barely managed to smooth her features an instant before the door to her room flew open.

"By all the gods, what _happened,_ Ran-san?! Are you alright?"

Matsumoto had been cmpletely ready for a fight; for anger, consternation, suspicion. For flying fists and livid accusations. She'd long ago mastered the art of the perfectly plausible explanation and already had a dozen at the ready, her guilelessness defendable to the bitter end. Should such protestations still prove insufficient, she was prepared to do anything up to and including thoroughly titilating Gin in order to protect herself and Toshi from discovery. Hell, she was ready to do anything just shy of _sleeping_ with the guy if it meant Toshi got away safely...

What she hadn't been prepared for, in _any_ way shape or form, was the genuine concern riding Gin's features as he swept across the room towards her. All her brilliant evasions and sensual postures went straight out the window and she found herself, rather inglamorously, gaping at Ichimaru like a fish out of water.

As the dark-clad bodyguard swept in behind him and disappeared into the antechambers without a sound, Gin closed in and reached up to run a hand over her diadem. "Did it backfire on ya or somethin'?" Rangiku held her breath, mostly to keep from betraying herself but not in small part to prevent breathing in his scent. It was oddly reminiscent...

"Ah," Gin breathed after a moment. "There was a little kink left in it - how hard did ya throw this thing, silly?" A deft twist of his hands on a whorl of gold and he seemed satisfied; Rangiku let out a breath of relief that wasn't the tiniest bit feigned. "What were ya, tryin' to break it?" He grinned at her affectionately, a lingering hint of worry lacing his slanted eyes. "Musta been one crazy bad dream..."

"The worst," Rangiku managed to croak, staring at Gin's face in an expression that mixed barely-concealed shock with no little amount of horror.

"Well, I don't know what you were castin' but anythin' woulda gone screwy with it all bent up like that," he said warmly, trailing his hands down along her hair to cup her face gently. "I felt the backlash halfway across the castle. Musta given you one helluva jolt!" Gin placed a gentle kiss on her forehead as Rangiku tried desperately to remember how to breathe. He gazed deeply into her eyes. "All better now?"

_Yuh. Everything's perfect, now. Thanks Gin_. Rangiku swallowed hard and forced a smile to her face, remembering at the last second to add a layer of gratitude on top of it. "I'm fine, Gin."

He laughed, rubbing her arms. "No ya aren't, yer frozen solid. What ever made you sleep in your dress?" He pulled her close, nuzzling her face insistently. "Whaddya say we get you outa those old clothes..."

Rangiku's mind raced to come up with _any_ reason not to get her out of any clothes at all, but at that moment a loud scuffle behind her had her all but jumping out of her very skin. With a lurch, she recalled the bodyguard slipping away to check the perimeter...

_Oh gods..._Toshi.

Gin broke away to glare minutely at the interruption, his expression shifting as he caught the terrified look on her face. He instantly drew back. "Who else is here?" he asked suddenly, harshly, noting the sudden stiffness of her limbs. "Rangi," his voice dropped into a suspicious tone that was, oddly enough, laced with hurt. "Who else do you have in here?"

She had no time to come up with a plausible answer, much less a suitable prevarication, before the bodyguard rejoined them in the bedroom, dragging behind him a much-bruised and thoroughly subdued captive.

Matsumoto very nearly hated herself for the rush of relief that swept her limbs; the black-clad menace had entered from the ante-chamber, not the garden, and the figure he dragged over to drop in a miserable puddle on the floor was most certainly _not_ Toshirou. Not that he left her in a situation she would have exactly considered preferable, since the man cowering on the floor was the avaricious paramour from the night before, who appearantly hadn't managed to find any more clothes since the last time she'd seen him. Whatever twisted relationship the Queen had with the King in this crazy world, Matsumoto could not possibly imagine this to be a desirable scenario in which to find herself. Wondering how the hell she was supposed to explain her way out of this one, she glanced up at Gin with no small amount of nervousness. And, she realized, a sinking feeling of guilt. _Dammit, why do I feel guilty?? Gin's not real, and it's not like I _did _anything_...

But again, Ichimaru surprised her. Anger was in his expression, to be sure, but it was largely eclipsed by a woundedness that bordered on..._heartbroken!? That doesn't make any sense.._. For a long time, Gin looked at her before he sighed.

"I thought we'd gotten past this, Rangiku," he said softly, in a way that sent an odd twinge through her chest. His expression was inscruitable, and when he spoke again his accent was all but gone in a formality she found oddly bothersome. "Perhaps when you're finished, you would care to join me at the Public Audience. You know the people love to see you." With small sound of resignation, Gin turned slowly, throwing a quick look of disgust at the cowering roue before speaking quietly to his bodyguard. "When they're done, please see to it that the Queen is properly attended by the Royal dressers, and escort this..._person_ out of my castle." With that, he strode out the door without another look back.

Leaving Matsumoto with her mouth hanging open, utterly futzed.

_HUH_.

Her mind was feverishly reeling from the scene she had just witnessed. Never in a million lifetimes would she have expected this moment to play out as it had, and as relieved as she was that she was hale and whole, her stomach was knotted in a confused tangle of sensations she couldn't even begin to unravel. Nothing made any sense in this place; black was white, up was down. Friends were enemies and enemies were...

_What, friends? Then what does that make me...?_

A muted sound drew Rangiku out of her introspection, and she realized that the captive boy-toy was still crouching on the floor with the bodyguard hovering menacingly over him. Despite his obvious predicament, the paramour seemed not only elated to be alive, but rather willing to..._do_ whatever Gin had left them to do. The glint in his eyes was positively perverse, and he seemed on the verge of suggesting something dirty. With an exasperated look, Rangiku all but rolled her eyes.

"I never even started, and am most _definitely_ finished," she snapped at Gin's bodyguard, sighing with no small amount of sarcasm. "Go on - get him out of here."

The man on the floor managed to look slightly deflated, but his disappointment didn't last more than a moment. With a silent nod, the bodyguard shifted his weight, brought his sword around and sliced the man clean in half.

Rangiku couldn't help jumping back with a startled yelp as blood splashed across her skirts. She stood, frozen in shock, as the pieces slid messily to the ground. Cleaning off his blade on the halved remains, the bodyguard sheathed his weapon in a way that was nothing short of threatening despite the complete hooding of his features, before turning and padding silently out of the room. He hadn't made a single sound the entire time.

Rangiku had seen plenty of men die, and in much messier ways than this, but the wanton murder of an obviously defenseless man left her feeling sick. _Oh gods, I didn't know he was going to...did I really just kill someone by accident? Gods above and below, tell me that wasn't a real innocent who died before my eyes.._. Stomach reeling, she lurched for the garden doors, throwing them open into the brightness of a late-morning sun that seemed oddly perverse to her.

She stood for a long moment, gulping cool air into her lungs and trying to dispel the overload of thoroughly disturbing events that had crowded into the last five minutes. When fingers slipped into hers she very nearly yelped, and it was only the weakness in her knees that allowed her to get dragged unceremoniously into a bush.

Ocean green eyes bored into hers from inches away as Toushirou's strong hands drifted their way across her body. He paled at the sight of fresh blood on her skirts.

"Are you okay!? What the hell did that monster do to you?" He growled something ferocious, his comforting motions suddenly redefining themselves as probing for injuries, which for some reason Matsumoto found to be smothering. Muttering in irritation, she brushed away his concerned ministrations.

"I'm fine. He didn't hurt me." _No, actually..._I_ seemed to have hurt _him,_ which makes_ no _sense at all.._. Matsumoto felt oddly bothered, and it was really hard to sort out what she was thinking when Toshi was looking at her like that. "What?" She shrugged self-consciously, trying to ignore the evasive color to her tone. "I'm fine, really."

"No, you're not. You're drifting..." Toushirou's face tightened in mingled anger and concern. "Matsumoto, remember, whoever that was, it was _not_ Gin..."

An inexplicable flare of fury swept through her, and she found herself snapping, "How do _you_ know? You only knew Gin later, not when he was...when we were..." She trailed off in an almost dazed confusion. _Why the hell am I defending myself? Or Gin for that matter...?_ "He wasn't _always_ a monster, you know..." she muttered ineffectively, hot tears springing to her eyes for no reason she could explain.

Toushirou's hands came up to cup either side of her face, his incomparable eyes darkening in intensity. "Stay with me, Matsumoto." His voice sounded rough, and he leaned in until their foreheads were touching. "Do not let him get inside your head, love."

The deep notes of concern in his voice rattled her as she took a deep breath, closing her eyes and willing herself back to rational thought. She could smell Toushriou's comforting scent, like fresh snow on an ice-cold day, as his breath caressed her face, and she shook herself, folding into his embrace as if her were the only thing keeping her from drowning. Toshi's strength seemed to seep into her as she took a deep breath, reaching up to clasp his arms and finally meeting his gaze firmly.

"I'm fine," she said, convincingly this time, and part of her twinged when she saw a shadow of tension melt out of him. Another quick delving of his sparkling eyes and he finally offered her the tiniest of smiles.

"Don't worry - I've found the way out..." Quickly, Toushirou ran through the information Urahara had provided, Matsumoto nodding the whole time while he explained the Training Sphere as if it made total sense to her. "So, all we need to do is get you and that thing," a quick, fervid look at her crown, "together with Kisuke and he'll open an exit."

"Well, you're going to have to get _him_ to _me_," Matsumoto insisted grimly. "Gin can feel everything that happens with this thing, right up to where I am and what kido I'm casting. I might was well have a leash on me." Toushirou stirred, but Matsumoto was adamant. "The safest thing to do is for me to go on acting like nothing is wrong and keep the Queen's appointments. As soon as I can get away, I'll meet you..." she wracked her brain, "There's a library on the lower level of the next wing over. It looked to be rarely used; I'll meet you there."

Despite himself, Toshirou looked surprised. "You were in a _library...?"_

She shot him a withering glare. "Thanks a heap, _baka._ Yeah, that's where I found Ukitake..."

"Ukitake!? You _found_ him?" Toshi hissed eagerly. "Perfect - we can use his help keeping the servants away while we slip through the castle..."

"Yeah, well, _you're_ going to have to ask him for that; I doubt he'll be willing to do anything for me..." she shuddered slightly while Toshirou threw her a tiny, inquisitive frown. She shook her head slightly; no time to explain it to him, and she _really_ didn't want to retell that story. "Still, it's as good a place as any, although Kisuke had better be quick once we start; all hell will break loose once Gin feels this thing pulling kido. We'll have to do this _late_ tonight, when I can be sure Gin's asleep. Give me until midnight; I'll be there."

Toshirou's eyebrows shifted askance. "Matsumoto, how the hell are you going to be sure he's asleep...?"

Another withering glare, laced with a hint of wounded pride. "The same way I always dispense of unwanted suitors." Now she let an evil glint slip into her confident gaze. "Hougyokou or not, there's not a shinigami alive that can out-drink Matsumoto Rangiku." When Toshirou gaped at her, she shrugged almost haughtily, a wry grin on her face. "I'll just make sure he gets a bellyfull at dinner and by midnight he'll be sleeping the sleep of the imaginary and intoxicated."

Toushirou hesitated, still ill at ease. "I don't like the idea of leaving you alone with Ichimaru for that long."

Another flash of that inexplicable irritation, but Matsumoto did her best to shrug it off, smothering it with her assurance. "I'll be fine. I'll be sure to stay in public, where he can't do anything, and just keep my eyes open. I'm far from defenseless, Toushirou," she intoned firmly.

"That doesn't mean he can't kill you in a heartbeat..." Toushirou's grip on her arms tightened at the very thought, but Matsumoto shook her head firmly.

"That was in the real world. _This_ Gin won't hurt me." She was more certain of that than her own name. She all but missed the deeply worried look on Toushriou's face as something suddenly occurred to her. "Wait - whoever this Moderator is, he built this world and everyone in it according to his own specifications, right?" At Toushirou's confused nod, Rangiku's suspicion solidified into conviction. "Then the Moderator knew Gin from _before_ he went to Sereitei. Knew him from Rukongai."

_Like I did hung_ heavily in the air between them as a flash of something taut and indefinable crossed Toushriou's face. As those stunning green eyes searched her face carefully, Rangiku realized with a lurch that he was, if anything, the tiniest bit jealous, and probably a hair insecure by extension. She instantly softened.

"Hey," she said softly, leaning in and wrapping her arms around his shoulders. "You didn't know Gin back then - he was..._different_. The person who put him to this pseudo-world knows that. And that's an important clue to figuring out who did this, okay? Nothing more."

At her caress and quiet reassurances, Toushirou let out a rough sigh and let his eyes slide shut. "Sorry. I'm not doubting you, I just..."

At his lingering disquiet, Matsumoto did the only thing she could and kissed him.

A kiss that quickly heated up; within moments Rangiku was stifling a groan as Toshi's tongue hugnrily caressed her own. She never knew exactly what initiated her sudden swell of libido, or why her reserved Toshi got so eagerly swept up into it as well, but neither were of a mind to fight the sudden desire that gripped them. Two days of unrelenting fear and terror and separation, on top of the raging sexual frustration that had been fostered right before this foray into madness, had its understandable, intoxicating effect. Rangiku's skin was on fire, both their breath coming ragged as Toushirou clutched at her almost desperately. When a low growl rumbled out of the back of his throat, Rangiku threw all sanity to the wind and pulled herself insistently onto his lap, straddling him and tugging at his rough clothes. She might have only imagined a split-second hesitation on his part, because when he started shoving her skirts out of the way it was with an enthusiasm that matched hers...

Toushirou slid into her with an urgency that curled her toes, sending rough shudders through both of them. For her part, Rangiku was far too thralled by the heat and danger and sensuality of the moment to think a single coherent thought; in what seemed like seconds she could feel the sweet, tight heat clutching her and she very nearly bit his shoulder to stifle her cries as the release hit her like a tidal wave. His climax hit a instant behind hers, and before either of them could breathe they were rocking together in shared ecstasy...

They had just long enough for the breaking waves of rapture to subside, for their hazed, hooded eyes to gaze deeply into each other in afterglow, before a harsh voice split the languid air.

"_Your Majesty?!_"


	15. Headgames

Hitsugaya froze, the heat of the moment instantly evaporating as the icy clutch of fear gripped his throat. The grey-blue eyes an inch away form his radiated the same horrified terror for a split-second, before they shifted like quicksilver into anger. Without breaking gaze, Rangiku stiffened into a haughty royalty that positively oozed affront.

"What is it, Kiku?" At her words, Hitsugaya's eyes tightened as he finally broke away to glare pure murder at the smug servant hovering obsequiously at the edge of the bushes. Rangiku let a hint of amorous boredom into her voice. "Can't you see that I'm busy?"

"Of course, Majesty," Kiku murmured an amused if slightly apologetic look on her face. "Far be it from me to abbreviate one of your..._interludes_," Hitsugaya hissed at her filthy assessment, Matsumoto's suddenly-tightening grip on his arm the only thing stopping him from violent reprisal. "But I just finished cleaning up a mess inside and thought it would be inadvisable to test the King's patience much further this day. Your royal dressers are waiting, and the Public Audience commences within the hour." As she threw another precocious and malignant grin at Hitsugaya, it took considerable restraint on his part not to kill the girl on the spot.

With a tiny, muted growl, Matsumoto began to industriously extricate herself from Toshi's lap. While her voluminous skirts had thankfully hidden..._things_, her movement had him scrambling to set his own clothing to rights before she got to her feet and left him rather indignantly compromised, an awkward process that had his face flushing crimson in mingled embarrassment and fury.

He managed to get himself more or less situated just as she finally got to her feet, and before they could spare each other another glance, she was hauling herself through the branches in an only half-feigned bluster of royal pique. Kiku gave her a radiantly approving look before glancing back at Hitsugaya as if he were little more than an amusing house pet.

"What shall I do with _him_, Majesty?"

"Nothing," snapped Matsumoto, Queen mask firmly in place and as impenetrable as ever. "The boy has met my predictions, exceeded my expectations and proven to be circumspect to boot. He got himself in here, so I am certain he can take care of himself, as I am equally sure he knows what will happen to him if he doesn't." Patting Kiku on the head as if she were an obedient lapdog, the Queen turned to throw Hitsugaya one last, appraising glance. "Stay alive for a while longer, boy, and you will find yourself similarly…_compensated_. If the King doesn't find you, that is…" The women shared a licentious peal of haughty laughter before they turned as one and sauntered back into the Queen's apartment.

Leaving Hitsugaya seething with more frustration than he could qualify. The humiliating end to their assignation burned nearly as badly as his fear for Matsumoto's safety, and both were a close second to his self-consternation for allowing such a slip. _Stupid, losing control like that...if it had been anyone else that found you, you'd both be dead right now_. While he had to admit that he did feel, well, somewhat less tense, the lapse in focus was still inexcusable. Oddly enough, they were lucky it had been Kiku, who had already catagorized him as a paramour; as things go, she was probably the best possible person to have found them, and Matsumoto's quick thinking and clever acting had prevented disaster. _Stay_ _focused, dammit - get out of here. Nothing else matters._ _Well, that and finding the person responsible for all of this_...before long a fourth flame was goading Hitsugaya into motion. As he carefully set off through the underbrush in the general direction of the hydrangea bush where he'd left Hinamori, he started running relevant information around in his mind again.

_Well, at least Hinamori didn't see us rutting like friggin rabbits_... The dappled sunlight did little to hide his burning cheeks, and he would have been hard pressed to settle on exertion or mortification as the cause. With a tiny mental shake, he forced himself to focus.

Matsumoto might be of the mind that the Moderator's inventions and designs on this place were harmless, merely coincidental, but Hitsugaya had no such illusions. While the characterization of Gin did reveal some likely information about the Sphere's controller, to Hitsugaya that fact revealed much more. He was dead convinced, for one, that the same person was responsible for the Rukongai rumors sprouting up in the real Soul Society in recent months. Which, by extension, made him the most likely candidate to have thieved not only the archives for the Third and Tenth squad files but also, unquestionably, the mystery artifact from Twelfth that had had Mayuri in such a twist. There was no doubt whatsoever that said item was the Training Sphere inside which they were currently trapped.

What was still a complete, baffling mystery was not only exactly _who_ the Moderator was, that could dream up such devious treachery, but _why_. What possible motivation could there be for some old friend of Gin's from Rukongai to shanghai two captains and put them through this unique torment? That the Moderator's sympathies lay firmly with a utopian Soul Society, and seemed forgivingly rooted in the benign and genial person Gin had once been, was obvious; but if this mystery person had stolen the Sphere to establish his own pseudo-world in order to live out some unfulfilled dream, then why not just do so and get lost inside his own fantasy? Why involve Hitsugaya and Matsumoto in this twisted madness...?

Pure speculation was non-productive; Hitsugaya did not have the resources of Second to aid his theories, nor access to the list they probably already had going on likely suspects from Gin's Rukongian past. Even if he did, trying to figure out who the Moderator could be was useless until he got out of here, and thanks to Matsumoto's crown and Urahara's information, the exit was well within reach. All he had to do now was regroup with Urahara and somehow get him to the library rendezvous by midnight...

_Then, all this would be over_.

* * *

After a laborious struggle with an amorous rose-bush, Hitsugaya finally eased himself under the low-lying branches of the hydrangeas, noting with no small relief that the slender back of Hinamori seemed to be crouched just as he'd left her, facing away to watch their perimeter during his reconnaissance. Easing in behind her, Hitsugaya was careful to keep his voice low. 

"Hinamori - we're set. Let's go," he murmured.

Her shoulders did a tiny lift-and-drop, her back still facing him as she slumped slightly. "Got everything you wanted, did you?" she asked, her voice oddly strained.

Hitsugaya grimaced slightly, too focused on his introspections to note the phrasing. "Yes, sort of. What's important is that I get back to Urahara, as soon as possible..."

"No problem," she replied bruskly, her shoulders stiffening and her hands grazing swiftly across her face. "Whatever you want. Glad I can help." The last words came across in bitter, clipped tones that he couldn't help but notice, but before he could ask her what was wrong she slipped through the branches and was gone.

_Dammit_...Hitsugaya ground his teeth and followed after her.

Hitsugaya might be a genius in many respects, but he had long ago realized that his acute intelligence did not extend to the area of feminine mysteries. Still, he would have had to have been a complete back-birth not to figure out what was bothering Hinamori. She slipped through the bushes ahead of him with a frenetic fervor that bordered on manic evasion, all but leaving Hitsugaya behind more than once, and it was only the swaying branches or fallen leaves that belied her passing and kept her from abandoning him entirely. At first, he was glad for the ever-widening distance between them - his nagging certainty that his interlude with Matsumoto had been well and truly witnessed by even a fictional Momo produced a persistent and impressively dark blush, even for him. But as time wore on and the possibility of getting truly lost on the massive castle grounds became more and more probable, he finally gritted his teeth and tried to make an effort to not only catch up to her but to find some way to smooth things over. As Hanataro had mentioned earlier, Hinamori was the only one who knew this area of the castle so well, and he couldn't afford to lose her assistance if he wanted to get to the library later.

An opportunity to speak with her did not arise until they were well inside the castle again, darting along corridors and passageways stealthily to avoid running into the endless servants, attendants and personae that populated the castle. Hitsugaya took advantage of a momentary pause on her part, as she crouched behind a marble bust sitting high on a plinth and waited for a cortege of servants to pass, to draw near. Sliding himself deftly into a low crouch behind her, close enough to feel the heat coming off her slender frame, he leaned his lips close to her ear.

"Hinamori, I-"

"Sh!" The sharp, sibilant reprimand brought him up short as a stocky servant whisked by close enough for her brightly liveried skirts to brush the plinth behind which they hid. Hitsugaya bit his tongue and waited until the servant had passed before opening his mouth to speak again; this time, Hinamori stayed silent as she urgently clamped a hand down over his mouth and shrank deeper into the shadows. He only had time to glare at her ineffectively before a long train of servants hustled by. In their midst, back to him and striding away towards the public audience chambers, marched Matsumoto in a splendid display of cream-colored silks and glittering jewelry. Hitsugaya's throat tightened at the sight of her, auburn curls bouncing with the force of her purposeful stride and her silks gleaming in the afternoon sunlight.

Hinamori waited until the entire procession had disappeared around a distant corner before she removed her hand from Hitsugaya's mouth and threw him a tense, acerbic look.

"Just your lucky day, isn't it?" Before the tears in her eyes could do more than glimmer, Hinamori grabbed his hand and pulled him, unobserved, across the hall and into a dark servant's cuppola. Once safely huddled in the dark, narrow passage, Hitsugaya firmed his grip and pulled back, effectively halting Hinamori in her steps and whirling her around to face him.

"Now listen, Hinamori..."

"Oh, shut up!" She snapped, violet eyes blazing. "Just _shut up_! I'll take you to Urahara and then you can do as you like. You can rescue the Queen, or screw her eyeballs out or _whatever_..." Her liquid eyes finally over spilled, wet tracks forming down her flushed cheeks. "And why should _you_ care? I don't even _exist_ as far as you're concerned - which is _hell all_ different from the last ten years!!" With a furious jerk, she yanked her arm free and disappeared down the narrow passageway before Hitsugaya had a prayer of recovering from her outburst.

Left alone in the darkness, Hitsugaya felt an unexpected and bipolar tugging in his chest. For one part of him, he didn't like to see Hinamori in distress, and it was obvious that in this alternate reality she had unswervingly been there for him over the years. And no matter what had happened, real or not, Hitsugaya never liked to see Hinamori upset. Her agonized, deluded madness at the time of her execution had nearly broken him, and echoes of that moment twinged painfully. Unbidden, their brief exchange earlier, upon reaching the Queen's private garden, floated back to him...

_"There," Hinamori had pointed briefly at a gleaming window before turning briskly and settling to the base of the wide hydrangea bush. "I'll stay here and watch your back."_

_For a moment, he had felt compelled to hesitate, eyes flickering form the distant window to the resigned set of Hinamori's shoulders. After a moment, he'd spoken quietly. "We've done this before?"_

_A short, quick hitch of her shoulders; she hadn't turned. "We_ always _do this. You like to check up on her," she'd said in a tight voice, finally throwing a terse glance over her shoulder, not quick enough to conceal her unhappy expression. "Go. I always wait here."_

And that presented the opposite tug in Hitsugaya's heart. He was overwhelmed and oddly vilified by the idea that, even here in this pseudo-world where everything was a twisted nightmare, on some level he had not abandoned Matsumoto. That even an imaginary version of himself had refused to lose faith in her, warmed him in a way that was quite difficult to grasp fully. And explained, to no small degree, Hinamori's heartbreak at seeing them together in the bushes earlier...the flush started creeping onto his face again. Angrily, he tried to shake it away. _Gods, this place _does _get into your head...Hinamori is dead, and you are Matsumoto's committed lover; there is no reason to feel like you've done anything wrong_...

At least he didn't have the luxury to dwell on it now. With a soft curse and a mountain of conflicting emotions he had no time to dissemble, Hitsugaya slipped into the dark after Hinamori.

With no branch-offs or side-passageways, it took him little time at all to find Hinamori snuffling along as she stole through the shadows. Silently, he fell into step behind her and let her lead him toward the place where they'd split from the rest of their party earlier. It took him a while to realize he was trying to find the words to apologize, but as he couldn't sort out what to say, he found himself remaining awkwardly silent. Before too long, they reached a nexus of intersecting passageways that would see them, with Hisagi's aid, down into the catacombs where Urahara sought the ModSouls.

At the designated meeting point, they huddled in a shadowed corner and waited for Shuuhei to join them. Compelled to make some kind of peace with the girl beside him, Hitsugaya found himself attempting to find the right words.

"Hin...mori, I-...I'm sorry you saw..." He trailed off lamely, feeling less and less noble by the word. An awkward pause followed, drawing Hinamori around to look at him in a way that didn't ease his discomfort. He looked into those violet eyes, and for a moment tried to imagine what her last decade must have been like; running and hiding, commiting herself to his side only to watch him pine after the fukutaicho he'd lost...none of it real, but real to _her_, and for some reason that moved him just a little. Imaginary through this world might be, this Hinamori didn't believe herself to be anything but real, and he had little desire to be outright cruel to even a shadow of his former childhood friend. Finally, he opted for simple and straightforward. "Thank you. For helping me all these years." That felt right, and he let instinct guide him. "It can't have been easy."

Hinamori looked at him for a long time, her eyes shining, before she settled into something that resembled the merest hint of mollification. "It's okay. I was just returning the favor. You never gave up on me, either." Her words stilled him, and though Momo still radiated a hurt he could do nothing about, Hitsugaya felt an inexplicable sort of truce settle between them. It resonated deeply within him, but it would be a long time before he would realize that that moment allowed a tiny, unhealed part of him some measure of peace.

"You're early." Hisagi's tattoos stood in stark relief against his angular face in the dim light of their hiding spot. "You didn't take a direct route back here, did you? Gods, please tell me you at least covered your tracks..."

Hinamori just glared at him, Hitsugaya breaking in before she could get too worked up at the doubt cast on her evasion skills. They did head this way pretty directly, due to Hinamori's upset..."Where's Urahara? Is he still looking for the ModSouls?"

Hisagi's shrug was barely perceptible in the darkness. "He found _something_; the gods-all know what, but he seems to think you'll find it interesting." With that, and a final hard look at both of them, he turned and led them silently into the inky blackness of the catacombs.

* * *

The remains of Old Sereitei were wholly submerged under the structure of the castle, the old society having been largely razed and destroyed by gleeful riots of the common souls during the Emancipation. Still, it seemed Ichimaru had found some sort of devilish pleasure in allowing some structures to remain, their soulstone walls providing an eerily decimated foundation for the massive castle above them, the gleaming tribute to Gin's triumphant success. All around them, stretching away into the dark, stood ghostly remains that held little resemblance to the place he had once called home.

Still, while the vast remains were reduced to little more than rubble and ash, Hitsugaya couldn't help but feel that, every once in a while, he caught a glimpse of something he recognized; a worn-away store front, or the meeting of two walls at the corner of what he knew had been a squad garden. A wide open space full of broken tiles that remined him of a training sqaure. The dark, post-Armageddon-like quality to the trek filled Hitsugaya with a profound sense of deja vu, and he wanted nothing more than to get to Urahara and get the hell out of there. As they passed an area that he could swear resembled Fourth squad, the hairs on his neck positivly tried to stand on end, and he hustled after Hisgai without further perusal of his surroundings.

Finally, after several more fits and turns, Hisagi led them through a series of building remains that looked not the least bit familiar, into the largest of the remaining structures. Inside, they twisted through the labyrinthine passageways until Hitsugaya was thoroughly disoriented. _Who the hell would lay out their squad buildings like a freaking maze?_ he wondered grumpily, wracking his brain for which squad this could be and why he'd never been here before. He was starting to actually feel dizzy when Hisagi rounded a final corner and they found themselves in a small, cramped space that might have been an office at one time. Rows upon rows of locked cabinets covered each wall, some of them forced open with scrolls obviously missing. In the center of the room, lit only by a single candle, was a small desk at which Urahara was sitting, studying a heap of scrolls with intense interest. He spoke without looking up at their approach.

"Hitsugaya-taicho, you've returned early; I have not yet had time to locate a suitable ModSoul. Has something gone amiss?" He calmly turned a page on the desk, his scrutiny going undisturbed.

"Not really, but something new _has_ come up," Hitsugaya replied, uncomfortably aware of Hisagi's suspicious interest in the conversation and Hinamori's continued misery. "We don't need to search for a ModSoul any more; the Queen will be able to provide the reiatsu we need. We are to meet her at midnight in the library just west of the Queens chambers." Hisagi shifted angrily next to him and seemed on the verge of speaking, but Urahara burst into a cheerful tone of voice before he could voice his objections.

"So! I won't have to go grubbing around trying to find Twelfth anymore! What a relief; the air down here is so dreadfully dry, it's doing terrible things to my skin." With a goofy grin, he seemed unfazed by Hisagi's angry expression. "Well, Shuuhei, it seems we don't have to crawl around down here anymore after all. Which is just as well - this is no place for a lady." He stood, then, issuing a slight bow to Hinamori; she looked surprised at his effervescence just as Hitsugaya was. His eyes narrowed as he wondered, not for the first time, if the silliness was deliberate or if the man was truly unhinged. "Please escort us back to the surface, Shuuhei-san; I fear it will take forever to get the cobwebs out of my hair as it is..." Kisuke seemed positively depressed by the idea of such labor.

Hisagi seemed to have enough experience with Urahara's shift in moods and, despite his face darkening further, silently turned to usher Hinamori out of the room, who trailed behind him after issuing a small but quickly abandoned sound of protest. Hitsugaya got ready to follow, but not before throwing a curious glance at the desk top.

"What were you looking at, anyway? I thought you were looking for ModSouls..."

"Indeed I was," Urahara said gaily, dusting his hat off and grimacing at a clinging cobweb. "But when I recognized this building I couldn't resist the urge to catch-up on old times."

Hitsugaya's face twisted into a confused frown. "What are you talking about? Where are we?"

"Second squad," Urahara replied, placing his hat back over tousled, flaxen locks. "My, my, I must say - that Soi Fong sure is resourceful. You wouldn't _believe_ the kind of stuff she finds out, or how meticulously she records things. Or _what_ she records, for that matter..."

"Soi Fong?!" Hitsugaya gaped at him. "But...she became captain long after you left."

"Yes," murmured Kisuke, his voice dropping to a more serious note. "But she was captain when the Sphere was formed, and so all her stuff is here." At Hitsugaya's complete and utter bafflement, Urahara continued with a knowingly wry grin, as if delighted that he'd kept this facet of the Sphere until now. "While it is true that the Moderator creates and controls everything in a Sphere, it would be far too laborious and time-consuming for them to have to start from scratch and 'build' an entire world - ground, air, buildings, etc. So, the Spheres were designed to take a 'snapshot', as it were, of the existing Soul Society as a starting point, the foundations upon which alterations and specifications could be made. It made it very handy to use for training purposes: start up a Sphere, simply remove the human elements, and then let students inside to do whatever they want in surroundings that are an exact replica of the ones they already know. Quite ingenious, really, if I do say so myself." Kisuke beamed with paternal pride.

Hitsugaya was utterly stunned. "So...underneath this castle, everything is 'copied' just as Matsumoto and I left it!? In the _real_ Sereitei!?!"

"More or less," replied Urahara cheerfully. "Although, interestingly, since the 'changes' opted by the Moderator were retroactive, the state of things is noticeably altered. Still, the elements are all there - including enough information to verify your story beyond a shadow of a doubt." Urahara gestured towards the scrolls displayed on the desktop with a poignent, if amused, look. "The last ten years, the _real_ ones, have been very interesting..."

"So, what have you found out? From Soi Fong's files?" Hitsugaya was excited now, striding around the desk to join Urahara in peering at the scrolls on the desk. His mind raced with the wealth of information suddenly available to him, as well as a slightly guilty feeling of snooping. Bravery he had in abundance, but even the staunchest shinigami would blanche at the idea of Soi Fong finding out that her secrets had been tipped, regardless of the circumstances..."Anything interesting?"

"Well, it looks as if they were doing extensive reconnaissance in Rukongai, an investigation of some rumors pertaining to Ichimaru - clearly, those caught my eye. They were pressing for information on old associates of his, since the rumors and resulting disturbances were so notably Gin-favoring. Some of the results were...interesting."

Hitsugaya was already nodding. "That tracks with what Matsumoto told me earlier; she believes the Moderator knew Gin from..." he studiously ignored the twinge in his chest, "_before_. And we already knew about the rumors, although not the person behind them or the purposes for which they were being spread. Any word on why someone would abduct Matsumoto and I?"

"Not possible, seeing as it hadn't occurred at the time the Sphere was opened. Still, while there's no theories on your abduction, there is a list of suspects who might be causing the rumors..." Urahara grabbed at one scroll in particular, relegating it to the top of the stack so that Hitsugaya could take a look.

_Which could come in very useful once we get out of here, in apprehending the menace that had done all this_. "It only stands to reason that the rumor perpetrator and the Moderator as the same person," HItsugaya muttered angrily. "So, who is he?"

You could have knocked Hitsugaya over with a feather with what came next.

"_She_." Urahara fielded Toushirou's shock as if it were expected. "According to Soi Fong's sources, the Gin-sympathizer is a woman."

Hitsugaya gaped at the long list of female names stretched across the desk._ Okay, take that back - NOW you could knock me over with a feather_..."What the hell kind of woman would do this?!" Hitsugaya practically shouted, his mind reeling to take in the new information.

"A jilted lover, perhaps?" Urahara seemed amused and sympathetic at the same time. "It seems, during his younger years in Rukongai, Gin enjoyed extended periods of ...personal indulgence. While Soi Fong's information agrees that the suspect is most probably female, narrowing the exact identity down from there has proven problematic. It appears that there are more than a few names to whittle through..."

Hitsugaya clenched his jaw, his grimace so deep it actually bared teeth. _Great. Just great. Matsumoto's going to_ love _hearing that_... He shook his head, a sharp, angry motion, and forced himself not to get distracted by minutiae. "Bah, we can deal with that later. We need to get you to the library, and _us_ out of here, and then we can hunt down this Moderator, whoever she is. Until then, it's moot..."

"Hardly moot," commented Urahara, "If anything should befall me, finding the Moderator and incapacitating her would be your only way out of the Sphere."

Hitsugaya paused in confusion. "How are we supposed to incapacitate her if were stuck in here?"

"Because the Moderator is in here as well, of course." Urahara smiled slightly at his shock. "Aside from the two of you, she's probably the only 'real' person inside. A Sphere can only be maintained from within." He watched Hitsugaya absorb that information. "I would venture to posit that concealing her identity would be one reason why she chose to populate this Sphere. She could be disguising herself as anyone..."

"Kiku." The moment the word left his mouth, Hitsugaya was dead certain. From Matsumoto's description, she was certainly twisted enough to have dreamt up this little hell, and her bizarre sexual tastes would track as well, assuming she was a cast-off dalliance of Ichimaru's. And being the Queen's servant would put her in a unique position not only to stay close to Matsumoto, but to also bombard her with awkward, humiliating and vengeful sexual encounters. In fact, it made such perfect sense that Hitsugaya had to resist the urge to run right back to Matsumoto's room, hunt down the little vixen and 'incapacitate' her just for personal satisfaction. A sudden thought occurred to him.

_She saw us in the garden not an hour ago, and I left from there straight to here_...

A sudden sinking feeling overwhelmed him as his widening eyes met Urahara's. "I think I've been followed."

Beforethe words even sank in, Hisagi burst into the room with a wide-eyed Hinamori right behind him.

"The Queens' Guard - a full battalion - and they're heading right for us!!"


	16. Dancing on a Sword's Edge

Matsumoto drew a deep, imperceptible breath, took in the wide array of souls crammed into the Public Audience chamber, and called upon every resource available to her to keep from fidgeting.

Which wasn't saying much. Mastumoto Rangiku was not exactly known for her great poise or boundless patience, and her allergy to any kind of formality was well-known and either emulated, admired or detested, depending on whether the person was a comrade, subordinate or superior. Not to mention her voracious appetites for both food and sake, both of which had been denied her for far too long, were each demanding some kind of resolution; her stomach was rumbling and she was far too sober for her liking. It didn't help that she had been sitting for hours on this wretched dais with its intensely uncomfortable matching thrones, every twitch or posture adjustment in full view of the masses gazing at her in awe. And to top it all off, Kiku had vanished just before the audience had begun and she hadn't seen hide nor hair of the servant since.

_Gods, where is the little wretch_? she wondered grumpily from behind the serene and regal mask she'd adopted hours ago, and which was starting to feel rather brittle. _I'd give just about_ anything _for a snack. Or sake, sake would be_ great_. Hell, I'm so parched I'd settle for water._..Resisting the urge to clear her dry throat, she felt her mask slip a hair further as she shifted minutely in her seat and peered out of the corner of her eye for a servant she could flag down for some refreshments. _Any servant_...Her gaze brushed across the black-garbed bodyguard and quickly slid past. _Ok, maybe not _any _servant_...

"Something troubles you, my Queen?"

Despite the formal tone, Gin was smiling faintly at her, the impression of a sidelong glance strong despite his narrowed eyes. Though his accent had vanished while Ichimaru was in official capacity, any lingering hurt or anger from their earlier encounter had diminished notably at her appearance so soon after their parting. He had seemed more than a bit relieved that so little time had elapsed as to suggest that she had not indulged in the paramour earlier. Either that, or the bodyguard might have simply reported his demise to Gin; she really didn't know if becowled menace even spoke for that matter. The fact that something _had_ happened during their brief parting, albeit with Toshi instead, nearly had Rangiku in blushes but she firmly suppressed them, thankful for Kiku's absence insomuch as it meant she wasn't there to spill the beans. Still, all in all things seemed to have fallen in her favor, and Gin seemed pleased with her presence at his side.

Not a sentiment Rangiku could share. It was utterly unnerving for her to be sitting at Gin's side at _all_, much less watching him govern with no small skill and charisma.

The people..._loved_ him. It was unlike any public hearing Rangiku could have imagined, seeing as she had never attended (much less presided over) one, and drawing as she was from judicial or public forums she had occasionally been forced to attend in Sereitei. While plenty of citizens did bring grievances to air for Gin to resolve, many more came merely to pledge loyalty, express gratefulness or offer some other display of fealty. And every single soul, even those with litigable matters, brought gifts and offered them to their royals with sincere generosity, no matter how their issue was resolved. Rangiku alone was positively showered with gifts, ranging from exquisite jewels or silks from various prosperous vendors, to simple, hand-woven artifacts made by the meaner citizens. There was no embarrassment or rancor attributed to the status of the gift; everyone seemed happy to give something, anything, and every offering was accompanied by profuse gratitude and heartfelt compliments. When a small child, prodded gently by a doting parent, inched forward to deliver a hand-made doll carved in crude likeness to herself, and thanked the King and Queen, in halting if rehearsed syntax, for 'scaring the monsters away', Rangiku's heart very nearly broke. As she impulsively caught up the child in a massive (if somewhat gentler than usual) hug, she'd had to screw her eyes shut against the warring surges of emotion that riddled her.

_Is this really what the commoners think!? Are we just elitist 'monsters' to them...?_ A quiet, more logical part of Matsumoto's brain argued that this Moderator person had very probably adjusted public sentiments to suit his nefarious purposes, but looking into the child's face, into the faces of the masses before her, doubt still clouded her heart despite herself.

Gin himself wasn't helping any. He was just so damn..._solicitous_. He heard out every grievance solemnly and settled matters in a fair and genial way that almost always left both parties satisfied that justice had been served. He cured illnesses as required, leaning on the massive power of the Hougyokou, and supplied funds for reasonable requests as if he had all the coin in the world to spend without care. In most cases, the coin was a gift and not a loan; loans were made only to business or trade entrepreneurs and repayments were only ever to be made out of profits, once they had been secured. If the venture failed, no repayment was required.

And on and on, for hours. Every matter handled deftly, every citizen treated with respect, every judgment uncontestably just.

And _that_ was what tangled Rangiku's resolve the most. Evil she could have fought. Danger she could have bested, no problem. But against this broad, unwavering kindness she had no defense; it shook her to her very bones. As the day drew on, she kept sneaking glances at Ichimaru, but if he was playing a part she could detect no trace of it. And she knew him better than anyone.

Didn't she?

_Is this the kind of leader you could have been, Gin, had Aizen not seduced you to his treachery?_ she couldn't help but wonder, not noticing how great a transgression such ponderings were in her. She wasn't so stupid as to forget the Moderator's influence on the Ichimaru before her, but the possibility, the very hint of long-forgotten memory, that such a good person lay underneath the power-hungry menace that she'd faced on a battlefield so long ago, was unexpectedly moving.

_It's good to see you like this, Gin_, she spoke silently to a long-abandoned part of her heart. _Even if it isn't real_...

But enough speculation; Gin was still smiling at her, having asked if something troubled her, and it was high time she answered. Giving him a warm smile that was only partly acted, she spoke. "No, my Lord Husband," she replied, her voice pitched low for his ears only. "Only, I cannot find Kiku and I am so dreadfully parched..."

His answering chuckle indicated that he could very well guess what beverage she had in mind; she grinned at him invitingly.

_The sooner we start drinking, the sooner you pass out, and then it's off to meet Toshi in the library and home we go_...

And away from this damned Camelot and the confusion it evoked in her.

"The time for feasting is near, my Queen," Gin chortled affectionately, raising his voice so that it carried beyond the dais. "This grievance voiced is the last We shall hear today." A ripple of something like disappointment swept through the crowd, no less from those still waiting to offer gifts as those who still had unresolved issues. Undaunted, Gin turned back to the two men standing before him, and bid them state their case as the crowd starting quietly and respectfully exiting the chamber.

The first man, a pot-bellied soul with the good-quality clothing that indicated a prosperous turn in the after-life, complained heartily that one of his shops had been stolen out from under him. A trusted shopkeeper had started keeping all the profits for himself and refused to either turn the money over or vacate the shop, which had also been home to the shopkeeper over the years. The shopkeeper himself, a tall, gaunt man with honest eyes, insisted that the proprietor had abandoned the store for centuries, never once in over two hundred years lending a hand to the work or even making an appearance, yet insisted on collecting profits he had never worked to earn. The shopkeeper exhorted that he and his wife had long ago worked themselves clear of any start-up debt and were fairly entitled to the profits off their livelihood.

As their speeches died away into the now mostly-empty chambers, Gin stared at them thoughtfully for a long moment before reaching for Rangiku's hand. Settling his fingers comfortably between hers, he glanced her way and asked softly, "Well, my Dear? What shall we do with these two well-argued citizens?"

She very nearly snorted in contempt; the pompous proprietor irritated her thoroughly and his demands for profits he'd had no hand in earning rankled her hard-working mentality. "The profit belongs to those who work for it. I agree that the shopkeeper and his wife have long ago discharged any indebtedness and are entitled to their profits. Those who don't work have no right to endlessly receive profits on businesses long abandoned." At the end, a scathing note slipped into her tone as she threw something close to a glare in the proprietor's direction.

"Well put, my Lady Wife," Gin supported, with a proud smile. The shopkeeper was beaming while the proprietor fairly wilted under the weight of royal disapproval. Before he could sink too far into his depression over lost income, however, Gin spoke up again. "Right you are, and the shopkeeper is officially the shop _owner_ from now on. However, I of all people believe in second chances." Rangiku shifted minutely in surprise, throwing him a barely-concealed, complex glance. The proprietor perked up, the shop owner wearing a guarded look, as Gin spoke again. "I propose that the proprietor have the opportunity to earn back his store - provided he works for it. Say, two centuries as an employee of the new shop owner...?"

For a long moment both men gaped at Gin, Rangiku no short distance behind them in shock. The shop owner recovered first, grinning smugly at the well-chosen opportunity to exact a small amount of retribution, no less amused by the probability that the option would not be exercised. The proprietor opened and closed his mouth several times, his expression flickering from outrage to fury to embarrassment to hope and back again, before he finally burst out in hearty laughter.

"Right you are, as always your Majesty!" The round man issued another belly laugh. "It's true, I make a fair enough living from my other shops - which I will take care to properly supervise and assist in working from now on." The man chortled, shaking a knowing finger at his delighted monarch. With one last guffaw, he slapped a meaty hand on the shop owner's shoulder as they turned to leave. "Congratulations, young man. Work as an employee..." he chuckled quietly, shaking his head. "Mind you, I've half a mind to take him up on it..." They strolled out together in fair spirits.

_How does he do that?_ Rangiku wondered in something close to amused awe. _He makes friends out of enemies, and no one can deny his judgment is beyond fair..._

Gin's hand pulling her to her feet snapped her out of her reverie. He grinned at her, accent and familiarity back in place now that the room was well and truly emptied. "C'mon, let's get some grub - I'm starvin'! Time for some din-"

The rest was lost as a loud, deep ringing assaulted them; that lurching, debilitating tinnitus from earlier in the day had returned, with greater intensity. Rangiku very nearly howled in agony as she shot out a hand to steady herself, gripping the throne's armrest as the whole world rippled around her. Again, it was all over in a moment, though a longer one than before, and when she finally caught her breath, garnet eyes mirrored her reaction.

"Dammit it all to hell, what _is_ that!?" she croaked hoarsely; she realized she was gripping Gin's hand tightly and that he was returning her grasp with equal strength. Gin shook his head sharply.

"I don't know, but I'm thinkin' it's high time we got some answers." He forced himself to straighten, deftly steadying Rangiku while he was at it. "That was worse than last time...if this keeps up, the whole castle might come down aroun' our ears." Gin strode briskly from the room, gliding authoritatively down the corridors and pulling her insistently with him. He tossed her a terse grin. "We're just gonna hafta be fashionably late to our own feast."

The castle flew by in a blur as Gin flashed them directly into what could only be a war room of sorts. Inside, dozens of officious men in liveried robes were milling about in various stages of agitation. Gin was hardly of a mind to console them; as they emerged from flash and his robes fluttered lightly on the breeze created by their movement, he strode towards them authoritatively. With a sly grin and a deceptively silky tone of voice, he asked, "Well?"

One of the counselors, a wizened little man with bulging eyes, took a tentative step forward, wringing his hands. "My Lord, we still have little information on the phenomenon...based on empirical evidence, there appears to be a disturbance in the spirit-particle bonds. We cannot study it further with the simple means available to us..." He managed to look obsequious and pleading at the same time, along with a healthy dose of terror and a small amount of frustration.

Gin stared at him as the room fell silent, a slow smile creeping across his face; Rangiku wondered for a brief moment if she was the only one who could see the lethal danger behind the expression. "Let me guess - you want me to supply you with reiatsu, so that you can 'study' the phenomenon?" Gulping loudly, the wizened man was stupid enough to issue a tiny nod.

"It would go a long ways toward supplying your Majesty with the answers you so desperately seek..." The man suddenly stopped, his face lighting up in something close to ecstasy as Gin granted his request. It only lasted a moment, however; with a sudden gasp, the councilor started scrabbling at his throat, eyes bulging out even further as his face slowly turned purple.

"Aw, whatsa matter?" Gin purred. "I gave you what you wanted - a taste of reiatsu." The councillor continued to gurgle, and even Rangiku had to struggle for breath against the massive reiatsu that was suddenly flooding the room, as Gin allowed his spirit power to let loose. "What's wrong - can't handle it?" His grin widened as the other councilors drew back in horror at the fate of their comrade. With a strangled, gagging sound, the man slid bonelessly to the ground, twitching violently. Rangiku's crown diamond prickled painfully against her forehead, and as she struggled to keep her face smooth she saw the pommel of Shinsou twinkling insidiously, the greenish glow of the merged Hougyokou fading away with the man's last breath.

Gin regarded the remaining counselors for a long moment in the dead silence that had settled over the room, before speaking quietly. "Now, would anyone else like to ask for power?" The low tone seemed to petrify the men, all of whom were smart enough to stay silent, an effect that was not lost on Rangiku. Gin grinned widely at the terror suffusing the room. "Good. Now get me some answers, _before midnight_, and no more excuses. I'd sure hate to actually lose my temper..."

Into the tension of the moment, Rangiku jumped as something brushed past her shoulder; the bodyguard swept silently by her to walk to Gin's side, leaning in as if to speak in his ear. She writhed at the brief contact, unsettled that she'd forgotten all about the menace's presence and wondering absently how he'd managed to catch up to them so quickly, seeing as she and Gin had flashed directly into the war room. Watching Gin nod at whatever information the bodyguard was imparting, she had a moment to absently wonder, _The bodyguard actually speaks!?_ before a quiet murmur at her elbow belied the presence of yet another servant who had sneaked up behind her.

"The King's patience has been sorely tested, but I daresay he'll cheer up in just a moment." Kiku seemed amused, as if she already knew whatever information the bodyguard was conveying. Not that Rangiku could catch so much of a whisp of it; the bodyguard's voice was utterly inaudible even at such a short distance, and she heard not a hint of what might be cheering Gin up. Irritated more at that than anything else, Rangiku focused her anger on her handmaiden.

"Where the hells have you been?" Matsumoto hissed, but the slender girl all but brushed her off with a shrug, the smug twist of her lips altering not a hair.

"Oh, around and about, attending to some personal matters," she quipped enigmatically. "As you well know, it is my job to secure the entertainment for the evening, and I have a few arrangements still to make." Without so much as a by-your-leave, Kiku pivoted on her heel and left the room in a preemptory manner that was quite unlike a servant. Matsumoto, who had never had a servant in her life, found her utterly repugnant.

_Well, if I ever _did _have a servant, she'd be much more well-behaved than_ that, Rangiku grumped silently. She had little time to reflect on her recalcitrant servant, however; Gin was sweeping towards her, bodyguard in shadow, and he did appear to be in a much better mood.

"Great news, Ran-san! Seems we're gonna have some real entertainment for dinner tonight - and all the better. These buffoons were spoilin' my appetite." He chuckled, catching her tiny shudder as she glanced at the dead man lying bloated on the floor. "Bah, don't worry about him - I've been lookin' for a reason to kill him for years. These hold-overs from the old Regime really need to be cleared out, doncha think?" Gin's expression twitched in irritation before clearing again, a shadow there and gone. It unsettled her. "C'mon, I'm starvin'!"

Rangiku threw a simpering grin on her face and let herself get towed along in the direction of delicious smells. As her tummy rumbled of its own accord, she tried to slip in a casual question. "What news did your bodyguard have?"

"Bodyguard?" Gin laughed out loud. "You mean the Executioner?" He chuckled, a mysterious glint in his eyes. "I'll tell ya at dinner. _Bodyguard_...why would _I_ need a bodyguard?" Rangiku managed one shuddering glimpse at the man responsible for Shunsui's murder before Gin swept her into the Dining Hall.

Dinner was a sumptuous affair, the Hall fire-lit and feast-frenzied. Endless tables set along each long wall were covered in heaping dishes, more food than Rangiku had ever seen in her life. She sat at the head table with Gin, Kiku appearing intermittently at her side to attend to her every whim while the Executioner lurked silently in a shadowed corner. The lower tables were populated by raucous courtiers, making such a splendid scene that it did not take long for Rangiku to notice the solomn, dark-haired figure of Ukitake seated not far from the dais. He was the only one not laughing and drinking along with the general merriment, seeming instead to be there against his will. Though she wondered at his obviously reluctant presence, he studiously never glanced in her direction and her every attempt to catch his eye failed.

She should have enjoyed the meal, hungry as she was, but Rangiku was immensely ill at ease. It wasn't exactly easy keeping up her act, especially with Gin unnerving her so badly, and she'd been imitating royalty for hours now in constant and full view of her public. It was all so other-worldly and unreal, she longed for something familiar to ease her mind and settle her confusion. And while Jyuushirou's face was a welcomed one, his altered appearance and demeanor only reminded her of his gruesome fate in this horrid place and the Queen's part in his misery, which was enough in and of itself to ruin Rangiku's appetite.

And then there was Gin. His eyes seemed to be on her all the time, whether he was turned in her direction or not, watching her like a hawk, amusement ghosting his features. Though she put on her best show of wifely devotion, she couldn't shake the feeling that she wasn't fooling him, that every nuance she failed to hide or cue she slightly missed was not only seen by him, but was contributing to his amusement. By the time the meal began to wind down, she was thoroughly unnerved and felt wet-wrung.

_Gods, I could use a draught of sake_...With a lurch, Rangiku realized that the meal was over and she hadn't even begun drinking. Neither had anyone else for that matter. And that just wouldn't do; not only did she desperately need some liquid courage to soothe her frazzled nerves, she was painfully aware that she needed to get Gin well and truly sloshed if she had any hope of making her rendezvous in the library later without him knowing.

Gin seemed to notice her distress, if not the true cause for it. Clapping his hands sharply, he addressed the servants in a voice that carried across the wide hall. "Drinks! Dessert - and some entertainment, I think. My Queen looks bored...and dry." With a broad grin, Gin watched relief flood her as the tables were quickly cleared and sake jars were delivered all around, along with silver trays piled high with tasty-looking confections. She threw back the first cup of sake she could find, immensely comforted at the familiar burning at the back of her throat, and gestured roughly for a refill. A stocky blonde servant did the honors, and Rangiku absently wondered where Kiku had gotten off to yet again before remembering that her dark-haired handmaid was in charge of the entertainment. _Well, I hope its a good show, and nothing too perverted_...

Even though she was fairly desperate to start some kind of drinking game with Gin, she had no time to even think of one as the hall hushed at the entrance of a group of men and women, all dressed alike in matched robes, filing into the back of the hallway. No sooner were they situatated in formal lines before they were followed by armed ninjas, dressed in skin-tight black clothing and carrying slender katanas. The sword-carriers took up a formation in the middle of the dining hall and halted, still as stone. A long silence passed; Rangiku threw Gin a curious look.

"The best choral ensemble that Soul Society has ta offer," he explained, delighted by her surprise. "They are accompanied by one of our elite sword units, and the result is, as you'll see, highly entertainin'." One last grin and Gin turned his attention to the center of the banquet hall. As did Rangiku, with another almost desperate toss of the sake cup.

The choir began, the first exquisite notes so delicately sung that Rangiku very nearly had to strain to hear them. Their tone was impeccable, the intricacies of their interwoven melodies and threnodies absolutely transporting. For long moments, Rangiku utterly forgot her dangerous predicament, so enchanted was she by the beauty of the music. It was some kind of pastoral passage, an ode to beauty and peace and tranquility. Rangiku knew she'd never heard it before, but it still seemed familiar, as if its base chords were woven into the very fabric of a childhood she could barely remember. When the last notes finally drifted away, she turned and beamed at Gin in pure rapture, utterly forgetting her assumed role, but before she could exclaim or applaud, the choir began again.

It was an old song form, a piece of sacred music composed with incredible intricacy. Each member of the forty-person choir seemed to have their own part, woven perfectly into every other with a distinction that somehow managed to be seamless. The sword dancers, who until now had remained frozen in place, slowly began to move, one at a time and in perfect synchronization with each new singer's entrance to the song. Mirroring the music in flawless choreography, each swordsman had an individual dance separate and distinct yet wholly integrated with each other. Each dancer moved, each sword flashed, with an independance of movement that was as breathtakingly beautiful as it was latently dangerous, razor-sharp edges sometimes coming within a hair of the other sword-dancers. The brilliance of the visual, dance-like display, the graceful arcs of the flashing swords, was incredible and unique, and it was all Rangiku could do to breathe through her delight.

Suddenly, Rangiku's eyebrows twitched. Something was off, something wrong. The singing was still pitch-perfect, the choreography meticulously executed...but something was dischordant. It took her a moment to realize that there was another person on the floor, amidst the sword dancers. A servant who had gotten lost among the movers, she thought for a moment. She twitched in alarm - a thin slip of a girl had somehow gotten in among the dancers and was trying to get back to the safety of the tables, prevented time and time again by the flashing swords moving in graceful but unpredictable patterns. Rangiku pulled in breath to call an urgent halt to the performance before the girl sustained an injury, but a sudden crushing grip on her hand halted her. She whipped her head around to gape at Gin, but he was watching the performance, a smile on his lips.

"Oh, I forgot to tell ya, what the good news was," he said softly, for her stunned ears only. "It seems a group of rebels was discovered in the catacombs today." He turned to look at her, misinterpreting the sudden widening of her eyes, the paling of her skin. "I know - how stupid of them, ne? Why they would attempt to snoop around right under our noses is beyond me. They must be gettin' pretty desperate."

With a sudden sinking feeling, Rangiku's eyes flew back to the dancers. The trapped young girl was getting frantic as the song rose accordingly in pitch, and as the captive whirled around amidst the sword-dancers Rangiku finally got a good look at her wide-eyed face.

It was Hinamori.

Rangiku was gulping hard as Gin leaned in to murmur in her ear, his hot breath on her neck sending chills down her spine. "We caught two of 'em, the others are still being hunted. Kiku thought to make sport of 'em tonight, for entertainment, but I thought we'd save one fer tomorrow." He grinned insidiously as Rangiku tried desperately not to shudder. "You know, draw out the fun...?"

Rangiku didn't dare meet his eyes, could only imagine how many of her roiling emotions he was already seeing. Instead, she forced herself to watch the near-hysterical Hinamori trying to escape the deadly situation she was trapped in. Silently, Matsumoto chanted encouragement and prayed to every god she could think of...

_Come on, you can do this - just get out of there - you're a shinigami, you can do this, even without flash - you can do this...NO!!! _

She never knew if she screamed that last word out loud or not, the moment she saw desperate determination slam across Hinamori's face. The choir song swelled to a heart-breakingly beautiful crescendo, reaching a fever pitch of harmony and dynamic, as Hinamori took deep breath and leapt for safety.

The swords never even slowed down as they sliced her to ribbons.

It was all Rangiku could do not to throw up everything she'd ever eaten. It wasn't until Gin unpeeled his fingers from hers to applaud the show that she realized she'd had a death grip on his hand. Swallowing hard at the wild applause and delirious approval of the audience, Rangiku screwed her eyes shut and willed herself to composure. Feeling eyes on her, she wrenched hers open to see the cold, dark gaze of Ukitake glaring murder at her. As if on cue, Kiku appeared at her side, face beaming with pride.

"What a delightful show you arranged, Your Majesty! However did you come up with such a clever finale?!" Said in a tone slightly too loud, there was no way for Ukitake not to overhear the pert little servant's insinuation; giving Rangiku a flat look fit to peel the skin off her bones, he rose gracefully and silently exited, leaving the revelry behind in a tidal wave of disgusted disapproval.

_But I didn't_...She wanted to call after him, almost as much as she wanted to slap the horrid little Kiku across the face, but he was gone before she could get her throat working. With a lurch, Matsumoto realized that the assembly was retiring for the evening and Gin was getting up from the table. Rangiku vaguely noted that she hadn't even begun to get him drunk yet; she felt dizzy with heartache and fear and was painfully aware of how badly her Queen facade was slipping.

Gina hardly seemed to notice, staring with approval as he was at the performers who were slowly filing out past the bloody remains in the center of the dining hall. He grinned and stretched luxuriantly. "My my, what a mess." He clucked at the viscera on his banquet floor. "Whatever we decide to do with the other rebel we captured, we gotta choose somethin' more elegant. A formal beheadin', perhaps?" He grinned and offered her his hand, which she carefully took, trying to hide how badly her hand was shaking. "Come on, Ran-san, I think we should call it an early night, don' you?" He drew her to her feet and into his arms, and as he nuzzled her face there was no mistaking the desire in his garnet eyes.

Suddenly the ground lurched as another wave of mysterious disruption slammed into them. This one was pure agony, by far the most intense dissonance yet. Rangiku fairly screamed at the sensation of being ripped open, turned inside out, and the loud ringing nearly split her eardrums. It lasted hellaciously long, and when it finally melted away she was on her hands and knees, gasping for breath. Gin wasn't much better off, although fury leant him some measure more composure.

"_Dammit_ - those fools had better have an answer this time. Gods, do they _know_ how many people are in this castle!? If it collapses..." Gin drew himself up and stormed out of the room imperiously, tossing one last order over his shoulder to Matsumoto. "Go to my chambers, where I know you'll be safe. I'll join you as soon as I can." With that, he was gone.

As if she was about to do any such thing. Finally pulling herself together, Rangiku got to her feet.

_To hell with __midnight__ - if Toshi escaped the raid on the catacombs, there's only one place he'd know to go..._

Without another thought, refusing to use flash-step out of fear that Gin could trace where she went, Rangiku hiked up her skirts and ran in the direction of the library as if the full forces of hell were on her heels...


	17. Alice's Evidence

Matsumoto careened wildly around corners, her wide blue eyes frantically searching for any visual clue that might indicate she was running towards the long-abandoned library. A shot in the dark, but she had little to go on; she'd only been there once and had wandered into it at that, with no conscious memory of leaving it. She was all but desperate as she flew past her own room, in what she had to believe was the right direction. Midnight was still several hours away, but if Toushirou or any of the others had escaped the raid on the catacombs, then the library was the only logical rallying point.

_Two. Gin said there were_ two _captives. Hinamori and...oh gods, who else!?_

Rangiku hitched up her skirts and ran faster.

Hallway after hallway flashed by, with not a hint or clue tugging at her memory. Just as she was starting to wonder if she had gone too far, a flash of something vaguely familiar caught her eye. With barely a hitch and a whisper of prayer, she threw herself at the old, oaken doors half-hidden in shadow to her right, flinging them open with a loud thud. The sound reverberated through the tomb-like, murky room beyond; half-remembered shelves to either side of her verified that she had somehow managed to stumble upon what had to be the right library. Her wave of exaltation at finding it was instantly swallowed by her trepidation at finding it empty. Sliding to a halt, Rangiku's breath caught in her throat as she desperately fought her panic.

_Calm down, Rangiku - it's not like they'd be standing around in plain sight waving 'hi' to the first person that barged in. If they're here, they'll be hiding..._

Forcing her breath to slow, she quietly crept along one far wall, glancing down each shadowed aisle into the murky gloom, looking for any sign that anyone had been there, or might be hiding still. Only dust-furred books met her gaze. Despite the appearant emptiness of the room, the atmosphere was oppressively silent, as if there was a heaviness in the air that tied her stomach in knots. Row after row of tomes marched away from her into the darkness, and though she could swear she felt eyes watching her from the darkeness, she saw no one, heard nothing.

_I can't just pace around and wait; I only have a small window while Gin is distracted by whatever-that-is_...Drawing breath, Rangiku firmed her resolve.

Her first attempt at a whisper barely got past the tightness in her throat. "Hello?" Her thin-sounding voice echoed back at her plaintively as she crept deeper into the shadowy library. Halfway creeped out of her mind and halfway terrified that Gin would appear at any moment, she forced herself to try again. "Is anyone here? Toshi-?"

Her jaw clacked shut as the cold edge of a knife blade appeared out of nowhere, pressed against her throat closely enough to tickle her skin.

"_One false move, Queen, and I will gut you like a fish_."

Rangiku froze, afraid to breathe or even swallow for fear of being sliced open, as an arm snaked around her shoulders to hold her in an iron grip. She couldn't in a century have guessed as to the voice, but a glimpse of tattoo out of the corner of her eye offered her a name. "Shuuhei!?"

Impossibly, the grip on her tightened, the knife edge only a hair away from drawing blood as Hisagi hissed her to silence. "You don't speak, you don't breath, you don't _blink_ without my say-so. And you sure as hell don't cast kido. Understood?" She couldn't nod, so she just remained silent, and after an endless moment her aquiescence was assumed and the harsh voice spoke again in her ear. "What are you doing here?" The knife pulled back just enough for her to gulp once and draw breath.

She spoke in a strained whisper. "I'm supposed to meet Toushirou here-"

"Midnight," Hisagi grated harshly. "The arrangement was to meet at midnight, and that was before your Queensguard found us. So think carefully and answer again, Queen; _why are you here_?" The knife was back at her throat and she was afraid to answer, her stomach sinking at the realization that nothing she said would do any good. "Are you trying to lure out those who escaped your earlier treachery?" The knife bit ever so slightly, and a tiny, warm trickle snaking slowly down to her collarbone nearly had Rangiku in a panic. "What, nothing to say? Well, maybe you'll answer some of _his_ questions. Gods know he's waited long enough for this moment..."

Rangiku nearly leapt out of her skin as a dark figure detatched itself from the shadows and started walking towards them. For one blood-curdling moment, she thought that the Executioner had found her, but as the tall, slender figure drifted closer she caught sight of the unguarded face.

"Jyuushirou-kun, please," she begged, relief warring with trepidation. "I can explain..."

"Explain what?" Ukitake walked closer, his familiar, deliberate gait frighteningly implacable. "Explain why you killed Hinamori?" His dark eyes glittered harshly in the dim light. "Or why you killed Shunsui? Or why you are crawling around in the darkness, calling out the names of rebels?" Rangiku felt frozen as Ukitake stalked closer. "Trying to capture more pray for your little games?" Rangiku felt hot tears at the corner of her eyes as Ukitake drew to a halt before her, obsidian eyes boring into her. "Perhaps you would like to give me one good reason, _your Majesty_, why I shouldn't let Hisagi kill you right now. I've been waiting years for the chance to have you at knife point."

Suddenly Rangi was sick and tired of being afraid. Fury surged hotly through her veins as her eyes glinted dangerously. "What good does the _knife_ do you, you fools? Neither one of you has reiatsu. I could drop both of you with a _word_ if I wanted to." Both men tensed, but she rushed on as the knife edge bit harder into her skin. "But I haven't and I won't. Not only because I don't want to hurt either of you, but because the _instant _I pull reiatsu, Gin will feel it and he'd be here in _seconds_. And if that happens," she hissed, "then there is _no_ way I can help you plan a rescue."

Ukitake glared. "Rescue? What _rescue_?"

Rangiku fairly bit off each word, worry lacing her anger. "Gin said there were _two_ captives. If Shuuhei's here and Hinamori's dead, then _one_ of the captives must be either Urahara or Toushirou." Her voice caught, but she plunged on mercilessly. "And without _both_ of them, alive and well, I can't do anything to stop this nightmare!!"

The two men stared at her as long moments ticked glacially by. Shuuhei shifted at her back, drawing Ukitake's gaze.

"Urahara did speak with Hitsugaya," he admitted quietly, reluctantly, "about something that would end Gin's reign for good." The knife edge wavered, for a moment uncertain. "And that the Queen would help..." The grip on her shoulders loosened the merest bit.

Ukitake seemed to digest that information, Shuuhei's testimony going much farther than anything Matsumoto could have said; for endless moments she feared to breathe, praying Ukitake would see reason. Finally, he spoke, the harshness in his voice sounding more forced than before. "Shuuhei, listen to yourself. Why should we believe anything she says?"

"_Because I say so_."

Rangiku's eyes slid shut as another voice spoke out in the darkeness. Tears slid hotly down her cheeks as a cold ball of ice formed in her stomach and stayed there. Out of the shadows, Kisuke drew towards them, speaking again with firm conviction. "I can vouch for her story, irrevocably. Her presence here is premeditated and, on my honor, she will help and not hinder us."

More was said, as the three men began to quietly argue, but Rangiku heard none of it. _Toshi. Gods above and below, they got Toshi..._ She struggled for long moments against the panic that threatened to overwhelm her. _Please no, we have to get out of here before I go crazy_...

A sharp growl in the back of her head snapped her out of it. _Then pull yourself together and do what needs to be done_. Rangiku stilled at what felt like her familiar zanpaktou's presence brushing the very edges of her consciousness. _You're a captain, and Toushirou is counting on you._ She felt more than heard a deep thrumming at the edge of her hearing, and a certain unlooked-for strength was suddenly suffusing her limbs. Straightening her back, she felt a determined look settling onto her face her she forced herself back to the present.

Ukitake and Shuuhei were still dissenting, but Urahara walked past both of them, his silver eyes locked onto Matsumoto's sky-blue ones, determination mirrored. Meeting his look with steely resolve, Rangiku forced her fears to the background and addressed Kiuske.

"What do we need to do?"

Urahara smiled faintly, something in her eyes satisfying him. "Rescuing Hitsugaya would certainly be paramount, but we do not know where he is, and time is running short." Rangiku's expression twisted curiously, drawing a deeper grimace out of the man before her. "Surely you've felt it, my dear. The resonance?" She shuddered, the echo of excurciating agony ringing in her ears. Her gaze snapped into a razor sharp edge.

"What is it?" The growl was back in her voice; Rangiku would brook no more prevarication.

Kisuke seemed inclined to comply. "This Sphere is unstable," he said, in a low voice for her ears only. "Whoever the Moderator is, she understimated the power it would take to maintain an inhabited Sphere. Especially one that is keeping two Captain-level shinigami hostage. Make no mistake - this world is collapsing." The tone of his voice sent a shudder down Rangiku's spine, but she refused to let fear gain another toe-hold. The two men behind Urahara were frowning, drawing close to make out their whispered converstation, but Rangiku ignored them, too focused even to notice the gender qualification. "But isn't that a good thing? Once it collapses, Toshirou and I will be safe at home..."

"_No_." Kisuke's hiss drew her up short. "That's if you _exit_, or if it dissovles naturally when the Moderator releases control. If it _collapses_, it will take you with it." Seeing her lack of understanding, Kisuke grabbed her arm, pulling her closer as his breath tickled her face. "_None of this is real_. Nothing and no one here truly exists, except within the Sphere. If it collapses, we will all return to the Nothing from whence we came." A dangerous glint in Kisuke's eyes belied the gravity of his words. "But if you, or Hitsuagaya, or anyone 'real', is within the Sphere when it collapses, you too will fall into Nothingness." Rangiku felt her face pale as Kisuke's fingers dug painfully into her forearm. "It will be utter Oblivion, for _all time_."

Rangiku shuddered. "So, if we're not going to rescue Toshi..."

"Find the Moderator, and incapacitate her, and the Sphere will dissolve safely." Kisuke murmured, as the men behind him closed in. "Hitsugaya mentioned someone named Kiku-"

Surprise slammed through Matsumoto. "_Kiku_?! What a minute...the Moderater is a _girl!?"_

"Kisuke, what is the meaning of this?" Shuuhei demanded, Ukitake glowering over his shoulder. "Who cares about the servant when we have the Queen right here-?"

"_Kiku_ is the key," Urahara reaffirmed, his voice raising for all present to hear. "We must take her out-"

Ukitake stirred. "But the Queen - I saw her..."

"What!?" Rangiku finally snapped. "You saw _what_? You saw Hinamori die, like Shunsui!? Jyuushirou-kun, were you even _looking_ at my face?" In her frustration, tears sprang to her eyes. "I could _never_ have killed either of them, and you know that!"

Ukitake tried to glower, but doubt hindered his conviction. "But I heard her say-"

"Heard who say what?" Rangiku snapped wearily. "Heard Hinamori's execution attributed to me, by _Kiku_!?"

A heavy silence fell. Even in this world, Ukitake was no fool, and Matsumoto watched the pieces start to fall into place. Ukitake wavered...

But Kisuke spoke up, indominably. "None of this matters, Matsumoto-san," he hissed urgently. "We have to find Kiku and incapacitate her before the Sphere collapses."

"You're damn straight," Rangiku fairly growled, her resolve setting her eyes on fire. "Nothing else matters, only puting an end to this."

"_Then let us end it_."

Rangiku's breath caught in her throat at the sound of another voice breaking in; she whirled around, joy clutching at her throat as the tall, lanky figure of Hitsugaya strode though the door. "_Toshi!"_

"Sorry I took so long. I had to go get these." From under his cloak, Hitsugaya pulled out two katanas. Gripping Hyourinmarou firmly, he tossed Heineko at Matsumoto, giving Urahara a terse smile. "Right where we left them, more or less. Just like you said." He stalked into the room like a knight in shining armor, eyes only for Matsumoto. "Not that they're much good, with useless or absent reiatsu," he grinned slightly as Matsumoto caught the hilt of her sword, at the relief that flooded her. "But hell if I don't feel better with hilt in hand." Without another word he threw his free arm around Matsumoto, hugging her fiercely.

For a long moment she clutched him back, his familiar, frosty scent washing over her; she had never in her life felt so good to be held. Finally, Toushirou stirred; peering through her hair at Urahara, he all but growled.

"Open the exit - it's time to go home." Histugaya pulled back and smiled at Matsumoto as Urahara approached, eyes locked on her crown. "It's over, love..."

Sudden concern creased her features. "Toushirou, if you're here...then who was the other rebel that Gin captured?"

"Why, I thought that was purty obvious," drawled a silky voice behind them. All the color went out of Rangiku's face when she saw the silhouette that stood in the doorway. "The second rebel we caught , my dear Queen, _was you_."

With a vicious growl, Hitsugaya whirled around, Hyourinmarou in form, only to freeze in place as Gin threw an insultingly low-level kido binding around him. "And just lookie here, you were nice enough to bring all yer friends with ya." Another serpantine murmur, and bands of kido appeared around all of them, even Rangiku. Not that she could have moved - she was rooted to the spot by terror and horror, weakened by the thick waves of reiatsu that seethed off of Shinsou.

"_Ichimaru_," Hitsugaya growled murderously, but Gin just ambled on by him without so much as a glance. Hitsugaya craned his head around as far as he could and, as Gin drew close to Matsumoto, fairly spat. "_Don't you touch her!!"_

But Gin just ignored him, stopping a breath away from Rangiku. He peered intently into her face as he casually reached his hand up toward her head. "Here now, you won't be needin' this anymore." Grabbing the goose-egg diamond balanced delicated on the top of her crown, he wrapped his fingers around it and crushed it with his bare hand.

Instantly, Matsumoto's reiatsu evaporated. With a sad, musical sound, tiny shards of her ruined diadem rained down around her.

The tinny sound was swallowed by the roar of footfalls; behind Gin, the Executioner swept into the room, followed by a legion of Kingsguard...

And Kiku. As the armed soldiers silently surrounded them and Kiku took flank behind her King, mirrored on the other side by the terrifying fugre of the Executioner, Gin softly issued his commands.

"Take them and throw them in the dungeons." His eyes never left Matsumoto's face, his expression flat and unwavering. "Gather the common masses for a formal execution at dawn."

"Separate cells?" Kiku asked, all manner of servanthood gone as she gestured to the Kingsguard, who followed her every signal and closed in on the rebels.

"No need - they're all harmless." Gin smiled insufferably as Hitsugaya growled furiously and thrashed at his bonds. Grabbing Matsumoto by the shoulders, the King grinned mercilessly at the sheer terror in her enormous eyes. "I leave this in your hands, Kiku; my Queen and I have a lot to discuss." With his death-grip digging into Rangiku's shoulders, they disappeared in a flash of shunpo...

* * *

The instant they vanished, the bonds of kido winked out and with an inhuman howl, Hitsugaya leapt for the door. 

"_MATSUMOTO!!!"_

The first soldiers he met, he killed with his bare hands. The next wave went down swifter; even sealed and all but powerless, Hyourinamrou moved like a live thing in his hands, and the third wave went down even faster. Hitsugaya's vision turned red as he hewed his way through the Kingsguard, screaming in fear and fury, determined to tear down the very walls if he had to...

But there were just too many of them. Something plucked at Hitsugaya's side as a soldier got in a lucky blow; far from lethal, but it was enough to throw him off for the split-second it took for the guards to overwhelm him. Still he thrashed, screaming his throat raw, until the sight of the Executioner swinging the flat of his blade towards his temple turned the world to black...

"_RANGIKU!!!"_

* * *

Matsumoto all but stumbled out of flash, Gin's vice-grip on her arm the only thing that kept her from falling. She stared about her vacantly; the space into which they had emerged was dimly lit and deeply ominous. Heavy, velour drapes were hung oppressively around every wall, but she was hard-pressed to see a single window or even a door for that matter, making it a veritable fortress for anyone without the reiatsu to flash in or out. Most of the large room was cast in shadow, only a single brazier flickering feebly on the far wall. In the corner, deep in shadow, a gap in the thick, black curtains suggested a large bed covered in silks and pillows, all but lost in darkness. What she could see of the walls were a deep garnet color; in the low light they took on the hue of dried blood. 

_Gin's room? Must be_... Or at least she would have assumed so, had her brain been capable of anything other than debilitating dread; she felt completely dumb-struck, numb to the point of being almost senseless. The sensation was very nearly that of being drugged, but if Gin was leeching her resolve by use of his smothering reiatsu, she could no longer feel anything but the results. She sagged slightly as Gin's death-grip loosened and he reached down to pluck the now-useless Heineko from her nerveless fingers.

"Here now, you won' be needin' that." He turned his back on her, tossing the katana away contemptuously as he turned and strolled across the room to pause at a low table bearing cups and a decanter of blood red wine. "I sure could use a drink. How 'bout you?" He didn't bother looking at her as he threw the question over his shoulder; when she didn't answer, he poured himself a single glass and, turning with cup in hand, he regarded her for an eternal moment.

He wasn't smiling.

Rangiku shivered violently. "Gin, please - "

"Silence," he all but whispered, the quiet silk in his tone halting her instantly and sending another shudder through her. She felt like acid was snaking through her stomach, burning a firestorm in her guts, and she wrapped her arms around herself. Another long moment passed, the very air laying heavy against Matsumoto's skin.

"There are so many things I can think of to ask you righ' now," Gin purred, taking a long sip of wine. "But what I _really_ wan' to know is: why did you think, for a _single moment_, that you were foolin' me?"

She stared at Gin, speechless; she could hardly breathe. Slowly, Gin shook his head.

"I am disappointed in you, Ran-san. And it's not jus' cause of the bad acting." Gin put his wine glass to down on the table, leaning his long frame against it to regard her keenly. _Like a panther preparing to pounce_...the wild imagine that jumped to Rangiku's mind did little to soothe her. "I think I've been very generous. I thought I made it clear, since the day you knelt before me, that of anyone in Soul Society, you alone could trust me. As long as you did not betray me." The lethal flatness in Gin's gaze was almost as frightening as the sadness in his eyes, the absence of a smile on his lips. Slowly, he straightened and began to stalk towards her. "Even then, I indulged you. I endured your mistrust, your doubt in me. I allowed you to forswear my bed, even letting you fill your own with all those green-eyed boys you found, just to make a fool of me. Gods and I knew you'd earned the right to hurt me back, for everything I'd done to you. And I thought, with time, you would finally learn to trust me again, finally come to me of your own free will and love me like you might have, once." Gin halted, a breath away from her face, garnet eyes glittering.

"And then this morning, you called me 'husband'." He smiled then, slightly, and with sadness. "You've _never_ done that. Even when you agreed to wed me. I thought, either the moment had come and you were really, truly mine...or your betrayal was finally at hand." Rangiku jumped as his hand came up and lightly brushed her cheek, almost wistfully. "Since then, Kiku's been watching you, reporting your every move to me. Still, I wasn't absolutely sure it was betrayal until I saw your face when that girl died." Rangiku shuddered violently; her tongue felt glued to the root of her mouth and her jaw was clenched so tightly that she was forced to pull ragged breaths through flaring nostrils.

"Now, I think I am tired of proving myself to you. I think it's time for _you_ to prove yourself to _me_." Gin's other hand came up to cup her face as he drew her stiff body closer. "Even now, I will be generous, and will give you a choice. I'll make it very, very simple," Gin's grip on her face was iron now as he pulled her close and leaned in, his breath hot on her neck as he spoke into her ear. "If you want to live to see tomorrow, you'd better prove, in every way that I require, that you are mine. Irrevocably. Without reservation. And Rangiku," she bit back a cry of pain as his fingers dug harshly into her head and she was pulled roughly against him.

"_You'd better be convincing_."

As Gin's hands started moving over her, he continued to whisper hotly in her ear, telling her in excruciating detail what was going to be required of her in the immediate future, and exactly how long that future would last. All the while Matsumoto stood frozen, cold tears running forlonly down her face as Gin's hands deflty moved across her ribbons and fastenings, his serpantine voice draining all of her sanity as piece after piece of glittering fabric fell away from her.

By the time the last whisp of clothing drifted to the floor, cold was the last thing she was shivering from.


	18. Waking

Hitsugaya Toushirou knelt on the filthy dungeon floor and stared at his torn, bloody hands.

Motionless.

Not that he wanted to be motionless. He wanted to tear down the walls around him, wanted to watch the entire castle shatter into dust around him as he soared through the air with Hyourinmarou on his shoulders and a scream of retribution on his lips, ripping the world apart until he'd found her and saved her.

But he couldn't.

It wasn't as if he hadn't tried. His throat was as raw as his knuckles, and he'd long ago lost count of the hours since he'd come to in the dingy cell, or how many times he had thrown himself at the cell door with murder in his eyes and terror tearing out his throat along with his roar.

Neither did he know how many men he'd killed before he'd been overwhelmed, captured, brought here. In this place, that hardly mattered, although he could still taste their blood on his lips, mingled with the rank taste of sweat and defeat.

All that mattered was that Rangiku was lost somewhere, alone in the hands of a monster.

Again.

And he couldn't help her.

_Again_.

The agony of his immobility very nearly destroyed him, but before he could succumb entirely to his dark thoughts a voice murmured out of the pitch black that enveloped him.

"She will survive, Hitsugaya Toushirou. Just..._wait_."

Hitsugaya wanted to kill that smooth voice, so often lent to untimely humour and inappropriate levity. But there was truth in the words, and he had nothing else to hold onto.

_She will survive. No matter what. She'll know I'm waiting for her_...

It was a long time before he could loosen his throat enough to voice words.

"What will happen to her, Urahara Kisuke, if I don't get her out of this place?"

There was the smallest pause, the impression of sharp grey eyes watching him. "Her life will end, as will yours. This Sphere is collapsing, Histugaya Toushirou."

For some reason, that didn't surprise him; why, after all this time in this hell-hole, should a worst-case-scenario be out of the question? "And when that happens - what then?"

"You will not only die - you will cease to exist." Urahara all but whispered; in the silent inkiness he might as well have shouted. "Like us, it will be as if you never were, and never will be again."

Hitsugaya could not repress a shudder at that, but he forced himself to find strength. Calm. Resolve.

"I have to get us out of here."

Urahara's voice was underscored with a low urgency. "Then you must find this Moderator and incapacitate her..."

"Urahara." Even Hitsugaya felt cold at the deadly tone in his voice. "I'm not going to incapacitate her." He felt his whole body turn to steel as the words dropped, leaden, out of his mouth.

"I'm going to kill her."

A long silence followed; under the circumstances it felt somewhat like a benediction.

Only a few more words rang out in the dank cell before Urahara fell silent and they all settled in to wait.

"So be it."

* * *

Dawn approached, not with the sounds of larks or a world awakening, but to the thunderous footfalls of approaching Kingsguard. It was not long before the door flew open and into the cell poured a sea of liveried guards, swarming around the four of them and dragging them to their feet. They were not bound, and in truth there was little reason to; a surprisingly large retinue, armed to the teeth, had been assigned to escort them to their execution, the display of strength so overwhelming that Hitsugaya grimly pondered Ichimaru's assertion that they were harmless. 

_And yet, a dozen guards for each of us, just to take us from the dungeons_...Hitsugaya's lips curled back in something that was half-smile, half-snarl and all feral anticipation.

Despite their impending fate, Hitsugaya was seething with something close to impatience. Throughout the night, several more resonant disruptions had rocked them...

..._ever gaining in intensity, to the point where Hitsugaya had commented that their execution might be ill-attended._

_Urahara had shrugged faintly. "Without reiatsu, the commoners can't feel the dissonance. They will be there, Hitsugaya; the people love a good execution, and four of us will make for quite a show. If a distruption hits during the ceremony, I doubt the commoners would even notice._ We _will, for sure." He had paused and stretched. "Although, what we feel is undoubtedly mild compared to what Ichimaru must be experiencing; all his power makes him immensely vulnerable to the effect. I can imagine, at his strength, it is agonizing." The thought seemed to please him as he'd settled into a bemused grin._

_At that, Hitsugaya had frowned deeply. "If it can't be felt without reiatsu, then how is it you and I feel it at all?"_

_"You're real, and I'm hard-wired," Kisuke replied, as if that solved the matter. "I'm bound to feel it, bound as I am to the Sphere, and you do still have reiatsu, though the Sphere is blocking it. The weaker the Sphere gets, the closer you are to regaining Hyourinmarou." Kisuke paused then, as if waiting for Hitsugaya to catch up._

_It didn't take long. "If I reach for Hyourinmarou, the Sphere will weaken further!?" He felt rather than saw Urahara nodding. "Do you think, if I reach hard enough, I can set off one of these disruptions?"_

_"Most likely,_ if _you reach hard enough," Kisuke's grin seemed faintly manic. "Ah, but reach_ too _hard, and you'll hurry along the process and collapse the Sphere even faster. You'll have to plan it very, very carefully..."_

_"And while Gin is distracted by the agony of the dissonance, I can get to Kiku..." It was enough. It had to be enough. "We have a plan, then." It wasn't much, but it gave Hitsugaya hope as he settled back to wait for dawn_...

Trudging along dark, dungeonous passages on their rise up to the castle, Hitsugaya ran the plan through his mind again, trying not to notice how many potential problems it contained.

If _I reach hard enough...but not_ too _hard...and_ if _it debilitates Gin enough...and_ if _Kiku is even there_...

He had no more time for worry as they emerged into the castle proper.

It was a long walk from the dungeon entrance through the castle to the audience chamber, but not an uneventful one. Their emergance prompted a loud roar; the castle was filled with people, commonfolk, jammed shoulder to shoulder and all but frantic to hurl their hatred and anger at the condemned. As the crowd seethed and shouted in a cacophany of derision, Hitsugaya suddenly realized that the purpose for their large escort was not to keep the captives from escaping or presenting a threat, but to keep them _from_ harm and deliver them safely to their fate, protected against the riotous masses who were seething to see their blood.

They hadn't gotten ten paces down the first hallway before something launched through the air and the first of the projectiles hit Shuuhei in the back of the head. He cursed and tried to glare at the person who'd thrown the overripe fruit, but it was only the first of many; at first, Hitsugaya tried to hunch down to avoid the rotten waste that was being hurled at them from all sides, but it was useless. After several rancid tomatoes burst wetly and with no small odor against his broad back, he forced himself to straighten and accept the inevitable with as much dignity as he could muster.

_This is not real. It's all just some sick fantasy created by a psychopathic bitch...and it's all going to be over soon_. Hitsugaya marched on stoically, his face carved out of marble.

There was one hairy moment, just as they drew near to the public audience chamber entrance, when the crowd's exuberance overflowed and they converged on the armed procession with enough force to crumple the soldier's formation. With loud epithets and no kind treatment, the Kingsguard shoved back against the roiling masses, forcing them mercilessly back from the helpless capatives, but not before one or two urchins wormed inside the perimeter to land blows. One of them got Hitsugaya square in the solar plexus and despite himself, he doubled over painfully.

But before he could catch his breath or even react, he felt something cold and hard pressed into one hand. With a lurch, Hitsugaya realized it was the hilt of a crude knife, and he got a single glimpse of Hanatarou's grim, becowled face before he was shoved by a soldier and vanished back into the frenetic crowd. Hitsugaya made a good show of clutching as his midsection as he swfitly tucked the weapon out of sight among the folds of his tunic, and no sooner was it hidden then he was roughly forced to resume forward progress by the now-uneasy Kingsguard.

_Gods above bless you, Yamada_, Hitsugaya exulted silently, resisting the urge to finger the concealed weapon as he was dragged, at a near-trot, into the public audience chamber, the Kingsguard determined to reach their destination with no further incidents.

If the scene outside was chaotic, inside the chamber it was pandemonium. Everywhere he looked, Hitsugaya's wide green eyes met the frenzied faces of the bloodthirsty crowd. The noise was deafening, disorienting, but it was the royal dais that drew his attention. Kingsguard twleve men deep ringed the Royal stage, upon which perched two occupied thrones, and cleared a space before the King and Queen, where the Executioner waited with blade bared.

Everything faded into the background the moment his eyes fall on Matsumoto, his gaze locking on her hungrily, and the relief that flooded him at seeing her alive nearly took him out. A relief that quickly trickled away and evaporated the closer they got and the better look he got of her.

There was something wrong with her, something he couldn't put a finger on. She was sitting tall and regal, arms spread to lay wrists against the golded armrests of her throne; she was swathed in an intricately embroidered gown of white linen and practically dripping with diamonds, although her crown was noticibly missing. Her expression was calm, but empty, and despite her formal posture her eyes were pinned to the floor. Hitsugaya's throat tightened in dread and his green eyes bored holes into her head, as he waited for her to look up and give him some kind of acknowledgement, show some sign of life...

But she didn't. As he and the three other captives were maneuvered into position in front of the dais - Ukitake on his right, Urahara and Hisagi to his left, all four of them forced harshly down to their knees - she never once looked at them, sitting her throne as still as a statue.

Hitsugaya was just starting to wonder if he could call to Matsumoto over the howling of the crowd when Gin raised his hand, and within moments the entire chamber fell silent.

Gin's speech was short, sweet and to the point, his command of the crowd honed to perfection.

"My friends and citizens," he said quietly; somehow his voice managed to carry into every ear, and Hitsugaya didn't have to glance to Shinsou to see the Hogyouku at work accomplishing the feat. "For eons, the Old Regime reigned with power, power they kept for their own purposes, and ignored your true plights. You all watched, and suffered, to see how easily they ruled. Now," Gin grinned, his anticipation infectious. "Watch how easily they can die."

The Executioner stepped forward, brandishing his longsword, and with a graceful motion and no further preamble, let loose his blade and took off Shuuhei's head.

It fell to the ground in a spray of blood as the crowd went bezerk. As if to egg the people on and make the best use of spectacle, Kiku appeared out of nowhere, picked up the head and, lifting it by the hair, holding it high for all to see. The roar of the audience inched up another pitch as the Executioner clamly moved to repeat his stance before Urahara.

Kisuke turned to look into Hitsugaya's horrified eyes, one last wry grin twisting his lips as his grey eyes sparkled. "Remember - be careful..." His blood arced gracefully through the air as his head disappeared at the shoulder to thud wetly onto the ground.

Hitsugaya was trembling in barely-contained fury and no small amount of trauma as the Executioner withdrew to accept a cloth from a nearby servant, making a great show of cleaning his blade before proceeding. Kiku bounded over to the second head, hefting it deflty and tossing it into the crowd like a bride throwing her bouquet. She watched with a small grin of satisfaction as the delirious peasants fought over the grizzly prize, before she sauntered casually over to Hitsugaya. The smirk she gave him was thick with malicious delight.

"You're next, Pretty Boy, although it is truly a shame." The Executioner's clean blade caught the light as he turned back towards his duty, long strides carrying him gracefully to where Hitsugaya and Ukitake still knelt. Kiku grabbed his chin and forced his eyes to her as she sneered. "Such a waste..._gorgeous_ ey-"

The rest cut off in a surprised grunt as, quick as lightening, Hitsugaya grabbed her wrist with one hand as the other pulled the knife from his tunic and plunged it hilt-deep into her heart. For a second her wide, startled eyes bored into his merciless ones, before a shudder ran through her and, with a soft sigh, she crumpled and fell bonelessly to the ground.

..._and absolutely nothing else happened_.

For an endless moment Hitsugaya was numb with shock. _It wasn't her...demons of the seven hells, it_ wasn't her_...oh,_ fuck_, who is the GODDAMN MODERATOR..!??!_

A delighted laugh dragged him out of his horror; he looked up dumbly into garnet eyes that sparkled with amusement.

"Excellent!" Gin chortled. "As last gestures go, that sure was entertainin'." He chuckled heartily as several Kingsguard converged on Hitsugaya, wrestling the knife away from his wooden grip. "Although, you did kill a very useful servant, but..." Gin shrugged nonchalantly. "If she was stupid enough to let you kill her, then I guess there aint much use for her anymore. Right, my Dear?" Casually, he reached across to take Matsumoto's hand in his.

"Right, Gin. No use..." she responded robotically.

Hitsugaya's eyes widened, the dead, flat tone in her voice chilling his flesh. His horror only seemed to amuse Gin further, and Ichimaru lifted her hand to his lips and grazed the back of it with a kiss.

As he did so, Hitsugaya finally saw the bruises ringing her wrist.

His stomach lurched painfully, sharp aqua eyes finding more bruises half-hidden on her throat and shoulders, now that they knew what to look for. Clues swamped his all-too-intelligent brain; the stiffness of her posture, the pained way she sat her seat, the defeat in her eyes...and as Gin smiled wickedly and slid one of her fingers into his mouth and sucked it gently, her violent shudder and whitening face told the rest.

Something deep inside Toushirou broke as his sanity shattered into a million pieces.

_"ICHIMARU!!!"_

The next moments blurred into an overload of sensory input. Hitsugaya roared until he felt the earth beneath him lurch and twist as his soul battered against the Sphere. He roared until he heard a mind-numbing resonance thrumming in his ears. He roared until he felt wind in his hair and the temperature cool. He roared until pain started to crease Gin's features, the first waves of dissonance slamming into him. He roared until he realized that he wasn't roaring alone...

With a veritable explosion of reiatsu, Hyourinmarou's roar nearly split his skull open.

In the seconds he had before the Sphere collapsed, Hitsugaya watched as his ice dragon erupted into the room, swooping around with dizzying speed to catch Ichimaru in his jaws and snap him in half.

In that instant, two things happened simultaneously that no one could have predicted.

As Gin's broken body fell, the Executioner threw up a hand in his direction, screaming in horror and loss and desperation.

And Ukitake, in a moment of blind revenge for Shunsui's death, grabbed a pike from a nearby soldier and with a vicious crack to the head sent the Executioner wheeling to the ground.

The second the black-clad figure hit the floor, unconsious, the world around Hitsugaya lost substantiality, edges blurring in a mistiness that could only mean one thing.

Seizing more reiatsu, Hitsugaya froze Ukitake before he could deliver a killing blow to the downed figured; screaming for Matsumoto, he summoned a gust of wind to snatch her off the dais and whisk her to him. The instant she was in his arms, he dove for the incapacitated Executioner and grabbed on for dear life as the world around them shimmered, Shifted, and dissolved into white and silence...

* * *

Something hard crashing into his back drove all the breath out of Hitsugaya; it was a moment before he realized he had fallen, hard, and was crumpled in a heap on the ground. 

He hardly cared, the impact washed into insignficance at the tidal wave of reiatsu that coursed through his veins. He very nearly wept with ecstasy, half-drunk on the feeling of his own power restored to him as Hyourinmarou's enraged howling thrummed through every fiber of his being...

Vision returned in stages. First, he saw his own hands, covered in the ice claws of his bankai. Then, a glittering out of the corner of his eyes drew his gaze to a tiny glass orb, riddled with fissures. It rolled away from him to bump up against the figure of Matsumoto; almost sobbed with relief as she stirred and sat up, and in an instant he was on his feet at her side, helping her to stand. Steadying her, he gazed intently into her dazed, blue eyes.

"Rangiku," he croaked, reaching to brush the hair out of her eyes, but she flinched and drew back from the gesture.

"Are we out?" she muttered thickly. "Are we safe?"

"_You are indeed_."

Histugaya had never before been so happy to hear that infuriated growl that only Yamamoto-sutaicho could manage. Glancing past Matsumoto, Toushirou finally took in their surroundings; they were in a large chamber in Sereitei, the room ringed with Captains seething with power and concern and fury. Renji was there, with teeth and Zabimaru bared; Hisgai - dear gods, Hisagi! - and Soi Fong looking like pure death in compact forms; even Mayuri, who was gazing intently at the crystal ball still wobbling to a halt on the marble floor. Unohana moved first, addressing them both although her eyes were locked on Matsumoto. "Are you injured?"

If Matsumoto answered, he never heard it, for Hitsugaya was busy whirling around to look for the only other person to have exited the Sphere.

The black-clad figure was huddled on the ground between Shunsui and Ukitake, four swordpoints trained on the threat. Histugaya stalked forward, his eyes piercing daggers at the figure and his vision hazy with rage.

"_Who are you_?" The words nearly cut him as he spit them out, Hyournimarou howling behind them. "Why did you try to kill us? Why the _fuck_-?" He broke off, seething, blind fury shaking him. "_Answer me_, goddamn you, or I'll tear you limb from limb!" Shunsui and Ukitake shifted, a swift glance passing between them and somewhere in the distance Yamamoto was rumbling again, but Hitsugaya paid none of it any mind; he knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that none of them could stop him right now.

"_Answer me - WHO ARE YOU_?"

With a tiny shudder, the figure slumped in reluctant resignation, slowly pulling off haulberks to reveal surprisingly delicate hands. Reaching them up to lift off the large, heavy headdress, a hush fell in the chamber as it fell discarded to the ground.

Lush, auburn curls tumbled down around slender shoulders as the revealed woman spoke quitely, her tone thick with bitterness.

"My name is Leiko," she said, finally raising her gaze to his. "Ichimaru Leiko."

Her enormous, garnet eyes blazed with proud defiance, shifting to glare pure murder at Matsumoto as her next words ripped Hitsugaya's soul to shreds.

"I am Ichimaru Gin's daughter."

The absolute, stunned silence that blanketed the room only served to magnify the sound of Matsumoto Rangiku hitting the floor in a dead faint.


	19. The Naked Truth

Hitsugaya strode like an angel of death through Fourth squad, not even bothering to notice the lower seats and novices scattering out of his way. He ignored the upper Seats drifting hesitantly towards him, the looks on their faces showing half a mind to stall him but half-afraid to get in his path. He deliberately refused to acknowledge Isane rushing towards him with a determined, if daunted, expression; she actually tried to put her hands on his arm, slow him down, but he brushed past her as if she were nothing at all. 

It was only the appearance of Unohana herself, standing like an implacable sentry before the sickroom, that finally halted him in his tracks.

"I need to see her, Unohana-taicho," Hitsugaya growled, in a tone that brooked no nonsense. His well-honed respect for his elders prevented him from actually shoving her out of the way, but only just.

"That would be inadvisable at the moment, Hitsugaya-taicho," Unohana murmured softly if staunchly. "She has been through a great ordeal..."

"I _know_." _As have I, goddammit._ "That's why I need to see her..." Hitsugaya all but snarled, refusing to see the frayed eges of his emotions.

"I will not permit your to upset her further," Unohana's face curved into something that was dangerously close to a frown.

Hitsugaya gaped in a near-glare. "Why the hell do you think _I_ would upset her?" A quirked eyebrow on Unohana's part made him painfully aware that he was practically shouting. Blushing ferociously, he forced his voice to lower, though the tone was still harsh. "Unohana, I must insist..."

"You can insist _nothing, _as Matsumoto-taicho is no longer your subordinate." And there it was; Unohana was actually glaring, her midnight eyes flashing dangerously. "You are in a state of enormous agitation, and it will not serve, Hitsugaya-taicho. You must calm yourself before I will allow you into a sickroom."

Seething, Hitsugaya forced his breath to slow and tried not to notice his hands clenching in and out of fists. After an absurdly short pause, he snapped almost petulantly. "There - I'm calm now."

Unohana was having none of it. "Ah, so you are? Then you will be perfectly calm while I tell you that she has been thoroughly brutalized, both emotionally and physically, and is displaying classic symptoms of post-traumatic stress. As are _you_, I might add." Her dark eyes were as scathingly understanding as they were inplacable, and Hitsugaya found he couldn't hold the gaze. "Not to mention that her wounds suggest nothing short of-"

_"STOP."_ To his horror, Hitsugaya felt tears burning his eyes; for a long moment, he nearly crumpled, a violent tremor shaking him and his breath coming ragged. When he finally raised aqua eyes to onyx ones, his long lashes darkened with moisture, his voice was barely a whisper. "Please, Uno-..._I have to see her_."

Unohana regarded him for an endless interval, something compassionate sneaking into her steely gaze. Finally, she emitted a tiny sigh. "You must promise me, on your honor, that you will be gentle with her. Give her her space, do not push her, and _remember_ - whatever you are going through right now, she is faring far worse..."

* * *

The room was dark, silent. She knew the moment he entered, no matter how quietly he stood there; knew he was watching her where she lay tangled tightly in the bedsheets, clutching them to her like she used to do when she was a little girl and the bad dreams wouldn't go away. She also know that, this time, she was not fooling him, that he knew she was awake despite her closed eyes. This time she would not be able to escape reality, not for any length of time.

For her part, she hardly blamed him; he had long ago earned the right to have his answers.

To his credit, he held his peace for a very long time, but when the silence was finally broken, Hitsugaya's icy voice murmured softly, strained.

"Soi Fong and the SMC has been investigating Gin's past for months."

Despite her resolve, Matsumoto stiffened, drawing her breath in tightly, holding it against the agony of hearing such raw anger in the voice she loved so much.

"They know everyone he ever spoke to, everyone he ever associated with. Anyone he ever bedded, including you. All of them accounted for and most of them dead."

Matsumoto screwed her eyes shut, willing the next part not to happen, knowing that it would anyway.

"None of them, not a _single agent _of the entire SMC, nor anyone who met him in Rukongai or _anywhere_ else for that matter, knew that Gin had a child." A soft stirring, a noticible dip in the ambient temperature, and without opening her eyes Rangiku knew Toushirou was slowly approaching her bedside.

"No one - _except you_."

The tears started then, she couldn't help it. _Gods, how many decades have I been dreading this moment?_

"Which means that you also had a child. With Gin." His voice wavered slightly, the bleakness he was trying to keep hidden shimmering in his tone.

Using all of her courage, Rangiku finally opened her eyes, blinking away tears to look into sea green orbs. There was anger in them, an edge of raw betrayal that seared her.

"And in all your years spent in my squad, eight years in my arms and two in my bed, _you never _once _thought to mention this to me_." His green eyes glittered, his body trembling slightly, with what emotion neither of them truly wanted to know at the moment.

She ducked her head then, her vision clouded over through the tears that flowed freely, a sob tearing at her throat. Speech was beyond her. After a long moment, she felt a hand on her face as Hitsugaya cupped her chin, tilting her face up to his; it was all she could do not to flinch.

"Rangiku...were you afraid to tell me?" His aqua eyes bored into her, and for the first time she noticed the uncertain sadness behind the anger. It tore her heart to shreds.

The first sob escaped then, and with a rough shudder she managed strangled words past her the agony blocking her voice. "I was afraid to _remember_." A long breath rattled out of her. "And I was praying to all the gods that he'd forgotten..."

If it was possible, Hitsugaya stiffened further, his eyes flashing. "Gin knew about the...about _her_?" He was afraid to voice the rest, afraid of the raw emotions running rampant through him. Afraid of hurting her with it. _You told Gin, but not me...??_

Rangiku wilted, and she seemed to vanish against the bedclothes. "Once. He only saw her once..." Her voice drifted away with her memories, melting into a mewling whisper. "It was snowing..." More sobs followed, and it was a wonder he understood a single word that followed. "I was so young...and I had no idea what to do...only that _I_ should be the only one he could hurt. And I tried _so hard,_ gave up _so much_ to keep her from him, to...protect her from...growing up the way _I_ did..." Shame burned through her like acid and her hands flew up to cover her face. "Gods, _how did he find her?_ _I_ couldn't even find her, years later...and I _tried_..." If there was more, it dissolved into incoherence and the wracking, choking sobs that shook her whole body.

Tears burned Toushirou's eyes as hotly as his throat, and he found it was all he could do not to howl at the torment. A long, long moment passed as they both steeped in their own private hells, Rangiku's wailing no less tortured than his icy silence; for his part, Hitsugaya was at a complete loss to even being to sort anything out.

All he could focus on was the painfully obvious.

_My worst enemy...and the love of my life...and they, she...they had a_ child..._and she didn't tell me_...

For half an eternity, Hitsugaya tried to remember how to breathe. Slowly; in, out...in, out...

Matsumoto's sobs slowed a bit, and after a while she murmured thickly, half-defensively. "You knew I was with him, once. I told you that..."

"RANGIKU!" he all but roared; snapping his jaw shut, he forced himself into some semblance of control. "You told me...that you were together, _once_. But not this, not... _this!"_

"I didn't know what we were doing, had _no idea_ what could happen!" she wailed back. "I was a _child_, Toshi!"

"Don't call me that," he snapped, and immediately regretted it as all color drained out of Rangiku's face. He instantly felt terrible; _just add that onto the mountain of shitty things I'm feeling right now_, he growled ferociously to himself, trying to scrub the grimace off his face.

He watched as she seemed to shrink in on herself, trying to hide among the blankets, trying to bury her tears into the pillows. Unohana's admonition from just moments before he'd entered her room floated back to him, and even Hyourinmarou rose up inside him far enough to regard him with burning, consternating eyes. _Whatever you are thinking or feeling right now, she is experiencing far worse..._

_Breathe, Toushirou_...In, out. In, out.

_Just breathe_...

Finally, he did the only thing he could do. He sat on the edge of the bed next to her and carefully pulled her into his arms, trying not to notice how she flinched from his touch, or the terror that suffused her face for a split-second before she turned and saw the shared look of misery in his expression. In relief so strong it felt like agony, Matsumoto buried herself into his embrace. They remained there, tangled together hopelessly, for what seemed like centuries. Finally, Matsumoto's crying slowed, stilled, and when her breaths came ragged but even she murmured dully, her hands trembling as they clutched him.

"Toushirou - what are we going to do?"

He stirred, pained; one of his hands came up to cup her head, pulling her tighter against his chest.

"I don't know." The hurt was still there, the fury, almost overwhelming him, but if there was one thing Hitsugaya _did_ know, it was that he could not abandon Rangiku, not now, not ever. No matter what. He slowly stroked her hair; Rangiku, sensing his concession, his offer of support, and knowing what that choice was costing him, clutched him tighter, feeling more than hearing his almost-whisper into her hair.

_"Gods above, Rangi...I don't know..."_


	20. Fire and Ice

Looking at her - now that he had had a full day to process, to calm down somewhat - he could see the resemblance. 

The color of her eyes was clearly Gin's, but the shape and size, the impossibly long lashes, was undoubtedly Rangiku. Her hair, tumbling in gentle waves across her shoulders, was darker than Matsumoto's, almost tawny, with her father's paler skin setting off delicate features and striking profile. She was more compact than Rangiku, sporty rather than curvaceous; instead of her mother's sensual langour, her posture was tenser, straighter...like a cat, but one ready to pounce at any moment. There was something about her energy that brought to mind a coiled spring, an appraising quality to her demeanor that suggested she saw everything, noticed every facet of her surroundings. Even turned as she was now, away from him, he could sense her feeling him out, her expression betraying nothing.

And _that_ was pure Gin. Hitsugaya got the distinct impression that anyone unlucky enough to find themselves pitted against Ichimaru Leiko would find themselves thoroughly enjoying it. Right up until she hamstrung them.

To anyone else, Hitsugaya noted somewhat ruefully, she would be absolutely stunning.

Hitsugaya stood for a very long time, watching her. She knew he was there; it was impossible to hide the door opening, the long, crisp beam of light that blazed into the room from the doorway, his own shadow stretched long within it. Nor had the full retinue of Honor Guards behind him been hard to miss; she was interred in one of the strongest, most heavily-shielded cells possible - deep in the Shrine of Penitence, white soulstone gleaming impenetrably around them. Not an unreasonable precaution, given the circumstances, but despite himself he couldn't help but feel that it smacked of overkill.

Hitsugaya couldn't even begin to think of what he wanted to say to her, but Leiko solved that problem for him; without turning from her contemplation out the window, she spoke softly, her warm, rich contralto smooth as velvet despite the defiant, derisive undertone.

"What do you want?"

It was an unlikely question, and almost instantly riled him; probably exactly what she was hoping for. He quickly reminded himself that the girl had already proven herself to be insidiously dangerous and refused to rise to her baiting. Keeping the anger in his tone carefully controlled, Hitsugaya replied.

"You never answered my question."

"I told you who I was. I am Ichimaru Gin's daughter." Leiko chuckled softly, then, turning her head slowly to gaze at him with blood-red eyes. "Aw, what's the matter - don't believe me?"

The playfulness was so reminiscent, Hitsugaya could practically hear Gin's voice hanging in the heavy air. He let the slight pass before speaking softly. "I believe you. It's the other question that you did not answer." Slowly, he paced forward until he had crossed to the middle of the cell, the wan slice of light from the tall winow backlighting her as it fell across him.

"Why did you try to kill us?"

"I never," she intoned calmly, "laid a finger on either of you."

"Don't prevaricate." Hitsugaya growled curtly. "You were about to _behead_ me..."

"Was I?" Leiko replied, smirking. "I seem to recall taking an awful long moment to clean my blade; plenty of time for someone as smart as you to figure out an escape." She seemed nothing short of amused, plump lips curled in an eerily reminiscent grin. "Seeing as you are alive and well and currently throwing accusations in my face, I'd say it wasn't an unfair assumption."

"You put my life on the line, based solely on the assumption that I would escape?" The bland tone of voice should have sent shivers down her spine, but her gaze remained calm as the temperature in the room slowly began to drop.

"It was a caluclated risk," she responded blithly. "The files on you are impressive, and go to great lengths to laud your intelligence. I bet you already had an escape plan in mind, going into the audience chamber. And with the Sphere weakening," Leiko's eyes twitched in faint annoyance, "you were far from helpless."

"_I_ didn't know that," Hitsugaya growled, marvelling at her unshakeable calm.

She just grinned. "Aw, I'm sorry. Next time I kidnap you, I'll be sure to provide a full briefing." Her rich, low chuckle filled the room. Those glittering red eyes seemed to glow in the dim light, threatening his sanity.

_Breathe, Toushirou_.

He seemed to be telling himself that a lot lately.

"Do you think this is a joke?" he finally asked softly, dangerously, gacial eyes glittering. "Do you have any idea the charges you are facing, what they mean?" Glaring, he started to tick them off. "Kidnapping of high-level officers, imprisonment of said officers in a hostile environment, trespassing on restricted grounds, conspiracy, theft, assault, murder-"

"I didn't kill anyone." In flash, like quicksilver, the smile was gone, the look in her deep garnet eyes suddenly serious.

It was all Hitsugaya could do not to gape. "I _watched_ you take off Shuuhei and Urahara's heads..."

"Not real," she stated firmly. "You can ask anyone in Tweflth. The contents of a Training Sphere are wholly fabricated, limited in existence to the Sphere itself and in _no way_ related to reality." She intoned the explanation as if rehearsed, settling back in deep satisfaction. "As I said, I never laid a finger on anyone."

Her obstinance was infuriating, and despite himself Hitsugaya goggled at her. "You took us _against our will_ into an uncontrolled environment..."

"It _wasn't_ uncontrolled," she huffed. "A Moderator has total control of a Sphere-"

"Unless it's _inhabited_!" She flinched then, slightly, flushing as he caught the motion. "You weren't expecting that, were you? The power it would take to keep so many individuals acting according to your schemes?" The color in her cheeks deepend, and suddenly something occurred to Hitsugaya. "Gin fought you more than most, didn't he?"

"I had him under control," she contended heatedly. "I was with him the whole time-"

"The whole time, _except once_; that last night," It was all he could do not to throttle her. "Gods, Leiko - do you have _any_ idea what he did to Matsumoto when_ you weren't there_."

For an instant a shadow darkened her eyes, a hint of doubt touching her expression before she shifited stubbornly, petulantly. "I doubt it was anything undeserved..."

Without speaking, he reached an arm forward, showing her the raw, oozing bruises and scrapings still easily visible, obtained from his harsh treaments by the supposedly-fictional Kingsguard; he didn't bother indicating the large, purple bruise still painting his left temple. "Matsumoto's wounds are _far_ worse than this, and plenty real enough."

Leiko's chin came up, defiant. "None of it done by me, so I am-"

"_Innocent_?!" He grated, his throat aching from the effort of not shouting. After a quick, calming breath, he forced his voice to come even, if strained. "You were the Moderator, the instigator and master of that world; _everything_ that happened in there is your responsibility." His fingers were clenched, fingernails pricking his palms painfully; he forced the fists to unclench.

Her eye glittered, unmoved. "That is open to interpretation. In theory, the created inhabitants operate according to Free Will, and of that I cannot be held responsible."

"In _theory_??" he scoffed, snorting. "If that's what you've hinged your innocence on, then it's a fine thread, Leiko." Hitsugaya was gratified to see the shadow of uncertaintly sweep behind her eyes again. There and gone. "How do you know so damn much about the Spheres, anyway?" he growled.

She grinned impishly. "Oh, it's amazing what kind of information becomes available when an attractive red-head makes eyes at a few techno-geeks from Twelfth, who just happen to be spending their off-duty time in a seedy pub in Rukongai." Her lips twisted liscentiously. "The poor boys never get any action, and the promise of a tumble in the sheets loosens all kinds of lonely lips. Of course," she frowned prettily in vague annoyance, "every once in a while you have to make good on the offer, but in this case I'd say it was well worth the sacrifice."

Hitsugaya forced words past incredulous lips. "Worth it? Worth _what_? You're in a restraining cell that is impossible to escape, surrounded by the most powerful beings in Soul Society - none of whom see you as anything other than a threat - and you're facing the highest possible sentence for your crimes. The way things are going, you will be dead before the month is out."

The serious look was back, along with a tension in her posture; if before, she seemed ready to pounce, now she was positively vibrating with restrained energy. "That," she stated coldly, "depends entirely upon your definition of _'power'_.

_Where does her confidence come from?_ he goggled, shaking his head. "Leiko, it's over. Whatever you had planned has failed."

"Whatever makes you think I failed?" Leiko grinned, insufferably. "How do you know that I am not _exactly_ where I want to be?"

An intensely prickly feeling brushed across Hitsugaya's skin, and he felt deja vu as strongly as he'd ever felt anything in his life. Sudden realization clicked in his head, a tremor sweeing through him. "You were at the Academy. On First Day."

She didn't answer; eyes glittering, she didn't need to. Hitsugaya's stomach lurched.

"Is that when you planned this? When you saw us together that day?"

Leiko rose, all long-limbed grace, and stalked up to him, halting only an arm's length away. "I have been planning this, Hitsguaya Toushirou," she purred, malice dripping from her voice, "since the day my father died."

Hitsugaya felt his skin cool. "You're insane. You have no idea what really happened..."

"I know enough," she spat, her face twisting briefly; in rage, or grief, he couldn't tell for brevity. "I know who killed him, and that is more than enough for me."

"So that's it then? That's your reason for all this - _revenge?"_ he returned, allowing heat to color his voice.

"My reason for being here is to be _heard. _Publically. Before Court 46 itself." She smiled grimly. "I'm not going to give you the priviledge of a private confession." Lieko sniffed then, haughtily. "My silence is the only thing keeping me alive until I get a fair trial."

He took a step closer; inexplicably, he felt the overwhleming desire to laugh. _This is absolutely ludicrous_... "Leiko, you are not a citizen of Sereitei - you _are not entitled to a trial by Court_."

"If I don't get one," she shrugged nonchelantly, "Then you're never going to get a full confession out of me."

"_Leiko_," Hitsugaya snapped, suppressing the urge to run his fingers through his hair. "Listen to me - they don't _need_ a full confession. They captured you _at the scene of the crime, with_ the Sphere. Together with Matsumoto and my testimonies, it's _more_ than enough to see you executed, don't you see that?!" _Gods, is she really so blind..?_

That momentary shadow slid past her eyes again before her face hardened. "I am going to get a public hearing," she stated obstinately. "And y_ou're_ going to make sure it happens."

He did laugh then, a dry, harsh bark. Again, he took a step closer. They were less than a foot apart, his growl stirring the fine hairs that framed her face. "What makes you so damn sure I'll help you?"

"Oh, you won't do it for me," she purred maliciously. "You'll do it for _her_."

Hitsugaya's breath caught at the pure ruthlesness behind Leiko's manipulations. "You think my relationship with Matsumoto gets you off the hook?" He let fury flood his expression, no less because it wasn't an entirely unfair assumption. "You have a lot of nerve presuming to know me so well."

"Oh, I know an _awful_ lot about you, _Tensai_," she grinned arrogantly, knowingly; Hitsugaya felt the hairs on the back of his neck rising. "I read your files, remember? I know all about your Academy achievements, your rise in the Gotei, even your precipitous Captainship. I know you're a man of honor and wouldn't let someone die without giving them a chance to be heard. Although, it _is_ true," she chuckled viciously, "I don't know _everything_." Her eyes hardened, the pretty face darkening into something ugly. "Tell me, did you take advantage of your fukutaicho's charms from the very first day, or did you wait a while. A week? Maybe two? The files I read on Tenth squad were awfully inconsistant and conjective."

If it weren't for Hyourinmarou's quick rumble, Hitsugaya would have slapped her.

_She's just trying to goad you_. The old ice dragon had been awfully talkative in the short since the Sphere; perhaps he'd felt the separation as keenly as Toushirou had. _Be calm, do not let her rile you. Matsumoto would not want you at odds with her_.

_As if there is any other way to be..._still, Hitsugaya forced himself to calm.

"I don't control these things, Leiko; my influence does not extend to the point of making demands of the Court. I doubt I could get you a hearing if I _wanted_ to." His tone indicated that he still didn't see a reason to want to.

She gave him a gentle smirk, tossing her hair over her shoulder. "For the sake of everything you love, Hitsugaya Toushriou - you'd better find a way."

"If you go before the Court, your confession would only spell your death-sentence." He stated flatly, dispassionate.

"As long as what I have to say is heard, publically, then my death will be worth it." Her chin came up, her resolve stronger than the walls surrounding her.

He tried one last time. "What about your mother?" Toushirou said, softly so that he wouldn't stumble over the word. "What do you think it will cost her to watch you die?"

It was the _wrong_ tactic; in an instant her attractive face twisted into something perfectly hideous. "_Mother_?" Leiko snarled; she twisted her lips contemptuously and spat. "The bitch that whelped me doesn't deserve the name-"

He did slap her then, full-armed across the jaw, the crack resounding loudly in the small space. Leiko's head snapped sideways with the force of it, and the blow connecting was far less satisfying than the surprised look on her face.

Hitsugaya nearly smiled, grimly. _I guess you don't know everything about me, do you, Ichimaru Leiko?_

Slowly, she recovered, drawing herself up straight and mustering the dignity to meet him eye-to-eye, defiant.

Into the silence, Hitsugaya's voice crackled like new ice, dropping heavily into the laden atmosphere.

"You will never - _ever_ - refer to Rangiku like that again. Understood?" His words curled in a lazy haze in the frozen air between them.

Leiko matched his indolence spark for spark, taking a brazen step forward. "And you will never again - _ever_ - hit me." Her eyes danced with a fury that made them look like they were on fire.

The air fairly crackled with tension as they stood there, red to green, lava to ocean. Fire to ice.

Finally Hitsugaya shifted, deliberately offering her the tiniest of bows. Stalwart, with a hint of respectfulness he knew she wasn't expecting.

"Then, Ichimaru Leiko, we understand each other." Without another word, he turned to leave.

As the door opened, Leiko called after him. "Some things are worth dying for, Hitsugaya Toushriou. My father taught me that."

As Toushirou quietly exited the cell he realized that, for the first time ever, he felt old.


	21. Cards on the Table

_She cried inconsolably, as she always did when it was time for him to leave._

_"There, there," His hand rubbed circles on her back, gently, the way he used to when she was just a kid and the darkness frightened her. "Lookit ya, makin' such a big fuss." His voice was soft, understanding, but in that merciless way that she knew meant that even if leaving her was hard on both of them, he was going to do it anyway. "Yer not a little kid anymore, ya know." Another snuffle, and she looked up into his eyes, into that warm, burning color that always made her feel special. "C'mon now, be a big girl an' make me proud."_

_Wiping tears and amber hair out of her eyes, she allowed herself one last, big snuffle before forcing herself to take a deep breath. And another. Forcing herself to be calm, composed. Brave. Just the way he liked her to be. She would make him proud - that's just what she did._

_"W-when are you comin' back?" Her wobbly lip allowed one stutter; she grit her teeth and refused to allow another._

_"Aw, ya know I can't tell ya that." For a moment she reveled in the pained regret etched on his pale features; if his absences sometimes caused her to doubt his love for her, then his agonized departures always showed the truth of his affection. He hated for them to be apart as much as she did, she just knew it. "But ya know it'll be jus' as soon as I can, kay?"_

_She nodded bravely and roughly wiped her cheeks; she didn't want his lasting image of her to be all tear-streaked. He carefully brushed a single tear off her chin, his hand lingering a moment on her face, before smiling his special smile that let her know how proud he was of her. Slowly he turned to leave, but she reached out and grabbed his sleeve. "Tell me again, promise you'll come back...!"_

_He hesitated, his smile tightening a hair. "Ya know I'm gonna..."_

_"No, tell me all of it!" She didn't know why she was so desperate for just a few more moments with him, the urge to keep him near stronger than usual. "Pleeeeease!!" She wheedled and gave him the pout that usually won him over, knowing this time it probably wouldn't work..._

_He looked at her for a long moment before, to her great surprise, he smiled almost sadly and with a certain resignation he ruffled her hair. "I'll come back, Princess." Her face lit up like the sun and she slipped into his arms, curling up in his embrace like she used to do when she was a kid; which, it was true, she wasn't any longer, not really - by all appearances she was well into the start of adolescence. He'd already told her, so many times, that she looked just like her mother did when they first met. Holding her tight, he murmured into her hair. "When I do, everythin's gonna be better, and all of Soul Society is gonna be a nicer place to live.. "_

_"And you'll bring mom back too, right?" She gazed into his eyes, barely old enough to register the torment in them._

_"Yes, princess," he replied softly. "She'll come with me, and we'll be a family. I promise."_

_She had asked, once, why her mother never came to see her. She never forgot the look in his eyes, the sadness with which he'd reassured her - "She misses you every day, princess. I promise you that. Every single day." - or the delibrateness with which he'd avoided an actual answer. She was too young at the time to understand much more than that it was a question she should never ask again, and she hadn't. It never stopped her, however, from wondering why her father always visited her, and her mother never did..._

_But, as always, the time came for him to leave her, and like the brave girl she was she had to let him go. As he disentangled himself and turned to depart, she called softly after him. _

_"I__ love you, daddy." A too-bright smile. "Come back soon, okay?"_

_"I love you too, Leiko." One last, lingering touch on her forehead._

_"And I will_ always _come back. I promise."_

* * *

"Oiy. Wake up."

With a jerk, Leiko's eyes flew open. Annoyed and slightly disoriented, she blinked tears out of her eyes, shook off her dream-memory and glanced around her dim cell, squinting at the light that poured through the open door. It took her a long moment to extricate herself from the overwhelming emotions that always rose to the surface at that particular recollection - the last time she'd seen her father alive. But she'd gotten better, over the years, at being brave, and it was with composed resolved that she turned to regard the speaker who had awoken her. Standing in stark relief was a silhouette, not an unfamiliar once, but also not the one she expected. She grunted softly.

"I was wondering who they were gonna send next," she smirked. Ostentatiously, she looked him up and down. "You look better with your head on."

Shuuhei Hisagi's lips twisted with wry irony. "So I've been told." She flushed slightly at the rebuttal, but held his gaze. The silence stretched. "Are you coming or not?"

She quirked an amber eyebrow. "You're taking me out of my cell?"

"So it would appear," Shuuhei replied patiently.

Leiko couldn't supress the streak of wariness. "Where are you taking me?"

"Does it matter?" She was starting to wonder if the somber man ever grinned, even though his overall demeanor smacked of amusement. "It seems you're to be given what you asked for."

She managed a supicious glare. "I don't recall asking _you_ for anything-"

"You asked for an audience," he cut her off, stoically, his obsidian gaze making her uncomfortable while inciting in her something dangrously close to excitement. "You're to get one. Now, are you coming or not?"

She stiffened, rising to her feet with every ounce of regal dignity a street-rat princess like herself could claim. Without a word, she raised her chin and marched past him, out the door (outside!) and into the hallway, refusing to acknowldege the gaggle of guards that stood at the ready. She also didn't know where she was going, but instead of revealing her weakness she chose to halt with an aire of someone impatiently awaiting her escort, instead of a prisoner being summoned. With infuriating deliberateness, Shuuhei emerged from the cell and calmly swept past her, walking without a backward glance as if he knew she would follow. Annoyed, she had little choice but to do exactly that; she only held her tongue for a few moments before starting in with some irresistable taunts.

"So, you're an errand boy sent to fetch me, are you? What kind of underling do you call yourself?" She put as much sneer as she could into the tone without undermining the cool composure which she firmly exuded.

The man drifting silently in front of her seemed hardly to notice. "I am Captain of the Ninth, and I am following orders."

This time she did sneer. "You always do as your told?" She didn't outright say 'little boy', but it hung in the air regardless.

If he was ruffled by her, he didn't show a hair of it, his response infuriatingly benign. "I fulfill my duty, as always. Should I aspire to less?"

Annoyed, she had little response to that, so she settled for a sniff and tried to ignore how hollow it sounded. She managed a derisive glance at the guards following them. "I must be some kind of threat to need such stringent guarding, or so lofty an escort for that matter." She managed to make 'escort' sound dirty, diminutive, just like she wanted, but to her surprise he merely flicked a wrist and at the next bend in the hallway the guards vanished. She smirked. "Aw, did I make you feel all puny?"

"Not at all," he replied calmly, halting before a door and fianlly turning to look at her. Something like electricity shot through her at the stolid, dark gaze. "I am quite certain I can handle you on my own."

Almost despite herself, she sidled closer, aware of the effect she could have on men when she so chose. Glancing up at him through her lashes, she murmured. "Well, then. You would be one in a million."

He didn't reply to that, just kept looking at her in that way that made her tingle all over, as he slowly pushed open the door and held it for her. Beyond lay only darkness, and as she finally broke her gaze she stepped through it...

She emerged from the long, dim hallway into a well-lit room, albeit a bit too warm for her liking. The air felt thick around her, but that could more easily be attributed to the room's inhabitants than to any nerves she might be feeling. Standing shoulder to shoulder around a large, oblong table stood what could only be the leaders of the Gotei 13, each wearing somber expressions and flanked by what must be their respective lieutenants. As she slowly approached, Hisagi moved around from behind her to take his place in the center on the left side of the table; she took her time looking into every grave and guarded face. Every face but one; the captain of the Third squad stood stiffly, her eyes pinned to the tabletop, and as Leiko lasered the slender form with her glare, she may have imagined a shudder running through the woman.

_Coward_, Leiko thought silently, her bitterness running like poison through her veins. _You're the one who killed my father, who left me. You've ruined my childhood forever, and you cannot even look me in the eyes..._

"Ichimaru Leiko." An impervious voice filled the room, and despite her determination, Leiko had to force air into her lungs as the commanding figure sitting at the head of the table drew her gaze. Yamamoto Genruusai. A tiny convulsion shook her middle, but Leiko forced her eyes to stay trained on the elderly figure wno seethed with power. "We have been summoned here by special request of the Tenth division captain, to hear your confession." Leiko instantly stiffened, shooting a heated glare at the white-haired, aqua-eyed figure to her left. The old man before her seemed oblivious, almost impatient, his next words coming out in something close to a bark. "We are present; say your piece."

Leiko continued her glare, grating. "I was to speak before the Central 46 Court..."

"_Silence_." The old man at the end of the room did not roar, but the sharp tone had the same effect, and not only did Leiko bite her tongue but her breath caught at the sudden flux in power that swept the room. The temperature rose another degree, and Leiko could feel the beginning trickle of sweat between her shoulderblades. Yamamoto-sutaicho was somehow managing to glare despite both eyes being squinted shut. "If you truly wish to confess, this is the only room that will hear you. Or you can be executed in silence. Make your choice."

_Breathe_... Leiko drew a ragged breath, for the first time in a decade wondering just what she'd gotten herself into. She felt as if someone was sitting on her chest, and if the hot, thick power was coming from the head of the table, she could only assume the occupants of the room were restraining their reiatsu for her sake. _Gods, if this is their strength restrained_...well, she knew a thing or two about restraining reiatsu. She forced her resolve to bear, to draw an elaborate breath. To remember her father.

The fury that emerged from that thought allowed her to raise her eyes and her voice.

"It is not a confession I am here to deliver, but an ultimatum." The entire room shifted, but this time she was ready for it, her years of preparation for this very moment strengthening her. "You stand here, the combined strength of Sereitei in one room, convinced of your power and your immortality. Convinced of your might, and your right. But you know _nothing_." The last came out as a hiss, which was matched by more than one sharp intake of breath at her presumption. She barrelled on anyway. "You think you do such good, generate such equality and peace. When right outside your own wall, souls live and die by the minute." She felt the weight of a gaze from her right, an enormously imposing figure with black hair teased into belled spikes. Somehow, his attention fueled her. "The main goal of the Gotei 13 is to rescue human souls from suffering and death at the hands of the Hollows. You 'rescue' them by sending them here...and to what purpose?? So that they can die of hunger, or have their throats slit while they sleep?" Her glare swept the room now as she gained momentum. "Do you have ANY idea the so-called life to which you are condemming the souls you save? Do you KNOW what it's like to try to survive outside these walls!?"

Predictably, Histugaya stirred. "Some of us came from Rukongai-"

"Jurin'nan," Leiko spat. "One of the closest and _safest_ districts..."

"_Enough_." That from the wrinkled old mongoose at the end of the table.

"Let her speak." More than one gaze flew to the large, eye-patched figure flanked by the pink-haired lieutentant. There were both staring at her intently.

Leiko didn't wait for more support. "Do you know the murders that go on? The starvation? The rapes?" At that, the woman who was supposed to be her mother shuddered again, raising her eyes to gaze imploringly at the white-haired captain across from her. Hitsugaya clenched his hands into fists and threw a glare at Leiko, but she cared not in the least. "Life outside your perfect white walls is _hell_, and you knowingly send human souls there, as your mission of mercy?? As your goal for good!?" Leiko was practically shouting, a life-times worth of pent-up agression shrieking through her words. "You sit here in your palaces and content yourself that you are doing 'good', when you are condemning millions to hell..."

"_ENOUGH_." The old man's word did enough to silence her, not to mention the tidal wave of reiatsu that suddenly threatened to smother her. "I will not allow this establishment to be chided by a disillusioned child..."

"_I am no child_," Leiko broke in, and this time she didn't have to imagine the collective intake of breath that swept the room. For her part, she didn't care if she was a breath away from being killed where she stood. Carefully, deep within herself, she gathered what power she could claim, disguising it just the way her father taught her, so that anyone else would have to acutally be touching her to feel the reiatsu she was summoning. He had taught her a long time ago the value of hiding your true strengths. "You all think you're invincible. But there is more than one kind of power." Without further warning, she dropped to her knees and slammed a palm against the cold floor.

She'd been practicing this for years, and she managed the crude burst of reiatsu before the gathered captains could smother her; it wasn't much, and certainly nothing directly threatening - she just wanted one result, and it was hardly anything they could have expected. Before she was grabbed - by the same, dark-eyed captain that had escorted her here - and her reiatsu snuffed by the overwhelming spirit power of the other captains, she achieved exactly what she wished.

For a moment, nothing happened, the entire room frozen in a stupefied tableau. Then, the tremor started. Like a pebble thrown into a pond, Leiko's burst of kido rippled out from the room, starting small and resonating louder and harder the further it got, effortlessly sweeing out from the room, through Sereitei and past thousands of confused shinigami who had never before experienced any kind of earth tremor. Onward it flew, to the Rukongai and beyond, spreading into a veritable earthquake as it swept through every spirit particle in Soul Society. For a long, breathless moment, Soul Society resonated with a deep thrum, just on the edge of hearing.

In her small room, flanked by the most powerful creatures in this afterword, the action produced a stunned silence before the red-haired captain stirred, looking infuriated.

"What the _hell_ was that?" he growled through his tatoos, looking confused and ineffectual despite his ire.

Composed again and thorougly satisfied, Leiko smirked at him, almost impishly. "A signal. Nothing more." Straightening herself proudly despite Shuuhei's firm grip on her, she hefted her chin and glared defiantly; refusing to acknowledge that she was being restrained, she stood with the bearing of a queen. "You don't own the only power in the afterworld," she hissed, directing her gaze at the dark-eyed beauty who must be the leader of Second squad. "I have people of my own, and we may not be strong but we are innumerable. And we are not satisfied with your definition of civilization." Another glare, another forced breath past the thick blanket of reiatsu, none of the labor allowed to show through her crimson eyes. "My followers, _millions_ of them, now know that you hold me captive. You have three months to free me, to send me back to my people, before you will be beset with uprisings and rebellions on a scale that you cannot begin to comprehend." The woman - Soi Fong, Leiko's mind proffered - stirred, but Leiko pinned her with a glance; they both knew this was not an empty threat. The silence hung for long moments before it was broken.

It was the bald captain who spoke first. "You're going to attack Sereitei with unarmed, powerless souls??" He seemed almost insulted, but she shut that down with a sneer.

"There is more than one kind of power," she snapped. "For all your zanpaktou's and their lofty attacks, what will you do when a sea of people - the ones you claim to have 'saved' - come washing over your walls demanding _true_ justice?" The quiet one, tall and thin with long, white hair spoke softly, as if pained.

"You are pitting the common people against the Gotei 13?" His brown eyes were sad, and despite herself Leiko found it a difficult look to hold. "You would have us wage war against innocents?"

She forced herself to send a cutting look in reply. "They die on the streets every day. By your hands, or those of rapists or murderers, what difference does it make?"

"Three months," Hitsugaya Toushirou said quiety, his intent gaze directed at the table as if lost in his thoughts. "Why so much time? What is it you truly wish to accomplish here, Leiko?"

Here, finally, her voice caught. "Change." She couldn't stop the frustration from leaking into her expression, and after a moment she let it be. Let them see the years of pain and struggle etched on her face. "I want to change the way it works. _No one_ should have to grow up the way I did, and I was luckier than most."

Trained as her gaze was on the old man at the end of the table, the one setting the air on fire and slickening her skin with a sheen of sweat, she almost missed the shadowed, grey gaze from her right. Leiko had just enough time to meet her mother's eyes, to falter slightly at the sympathy and torment resonating in those enormous, corn-flower blue eyes, before Yamamoto-sutaicho rumbled again.

"Enough." The old man seemed tired, suddenly. "Take her back to her cell. No good can come from this, and much damage done already." For a moment, the Tenth captain seemed to wilt slightly, his fists clenching. "Remove the prisoner. The Gotei captains have much to discuss."

Leiko managed one tiny, ineffectual yelp before the grip on her tightened - she'd almost forgotten the dark captain that held her - and she was shunpo'd directly back into her cell. Shaking him off furiously, she whirled around and glared at the man. "I wasn't _finished_."

This time he did smile, no more than a quirk at the corner of his mouth, and to her surprise he actually seemed mildly impressed. "You've got guts, Ichimaru Leiko. I'll give you that." Before she could bridle at his familiarity, he took a step closer to her, and that lightening-bolt of energy swept across her skin again. She refused to budge and told herself in no uncertain terms that it must be his power signature washing over her, causing her whole body to tingle. Nothing more. Certainly not the black, intense way he was looking at her... "Is it guts or hubris that makes you think you can change anything, all by yourself, in a matter of months?"

She stiffened at the challenge, but the soft tone of his voice gave her hope that he was actually asking in earnest. _Don't buy into it, Leiko. Do not trust. Never trust a shinigami_... "What do you care, _taicho_?" She made the last word into an epithet, all but spitting in his face, but his gaze remained steady.

"I care," he said deliberately, "because you sound an awful lot like someone I remember. Someone who was right in what he wanted, but wrong in how he thought it should be attained. A man who caused a lot of pain and death, and betrayal." His words ran through her veins like ice water, the raw emotion in his voice catching her off-guard. Those obsidian eyes bore into her, and for once, Leiko found herself at a loss for words. The energy in the room thickened a hair as he took another step closer, his breath warm on her face and something in his eyes difficult to look at. "Leiko," he said softly, the lack of honorifics oddly intimate. "Are you sure you are doing the right thing?"

It was all she could do to hide sudden tremor that ran through her; once again, she found herself trying to catch her breath. _Don't trust don't trust don't trust_. Raggedly, she found her voice. "You'll just have to wait and see," she replied, equally soft, forcing a sneer across her lips that for some reason she didn't think he bought for a second.

Shuuhei Hisagi looked at her for another long, silent moment, not betraying a hint of his thoughts, before turning and exiting the cell, leaving her alone with a strange jumble of sensations in the pit of her stomach and her mind racing.

Ponderously, she paced over to the tall window, dissecting the last hours, days, years in her mind. All she had gone through, all she had suffered, all leading up to this chance; she could not falter now. Slowly she sat, deep in thought, her gaze effortlessly skimming past the whiteness of Sereitei to the dirty walls of Rukongai beyond.

_It's begun, daddy_, she murmured to herself, curling up into a ball and pulling her knees tightly into her chest. _Just like I promised, the day you died_. The sun caught her face, setting her garnet eyes on fire. _It's all going to change._ _I'm going to make everything better, just like you wanted_.

She gazed out into the setting sun and, for the first time in a decade, felt like she'd made her father proud.


	22. Fallout

Arms wrapped tightly around Leiko, Shuuhei disappeared in a flash of kido, leaving behind a heavy, awkward silence in the assembly room.

"Well," Shunsui murmured in his trademark laconic fashion. "_That_ was interesting."

Ukitake's withering glance at his best friend neatly ecapsulated the lack of similar levity by the rest of the captains. "Shun, be serious for once. She really intends to go through with this madness."

"Bah, she's all bluster. How much trouble can she be? Words can't hurt us." Ikkaku, who was far from acquianted with the power of loquacity, snorted loudly.

"You would be surprised," muttered a terrifically annoyed Soi Fon. "The last time the commomers got fired up over the subject of equality and social change, it took my entire task force years to quell the dissatisfaction. And that was only _disgruntlement_. If the girl truly is capable of mobilizing the masses..."

"We have no reason to believe she isn't," Hitsugaya interjected. "Even if the Aizen rumors after the War were a fluke, there's no doubt as to who's behind the Ichimaru sentiments circulating right now." An icy glance at the Second Captain. "You've been investigating those rumors for months and never found the source, so we know she's subversive. And she got into the Academy, Sereitei _and_ the Archives without anyone catching her." He grimaced right along with Soi Fon, wearing a similar look of flagellation. "Whatever she's doing, she's good at it. She's right where she wants to be - and with an army at her back, even if they are just regular souls."

Byakuya replied with a delicate grunt that from anyone else would have been a guffaw. "Impossible." He stated flatly, looking nothing short of impassive. "The relevence of commoners is not the matter at hand. They are too far beneath us to be of consequence."

"Hardly, Byakuya-san," Ukitake sighed sadly. "Leiko has a point - for all our strength, there isn't one of us that could blithely kill droves of innocent souls."

"If they invade Sereitei, they are no longer 'innocents'." Renji glowered a hole into the far wall, arms crossed and canines bared.

"Still," Ukitake maintained, his wan features firming. "Could you honestly slaughter Rukongians, by the thousands if necessary?" A weighty silence. Ukitake nodded solomnly. "We have to find some way to diffuse the situation before anyone else gets hurt."

"HA!" Kenpachi barked, looking oddly thoughtful and nearly as amused as Shunsui. "I dunno 'bout you guys, but I know what it looks like when a bulldog's got a deathgrip on somethin'. That bitch's got the taste for blood, and she ain't gonna back down."

Rangiku snapped her gaze around, blue eyes crackling. "_Don't_ call her a bitch."

Kenpachi just shrugged. "I meant it as a compliment." With that, he promptly became bored with the situation. Turning to leave, Yachiru, drooped over his shoulder, he issued one final, rough chuckle. "If there's people to kill, lemme know. I got no problem killin' anybody." An disapproving silence accompanied the goliath's exit. The moment he was gone the room erupted in a cacophany of murmuring as the remaining captains began to disseminate the situation.

Hitsugaya remained silent, eyebrows taut and a dolorous glower painting his features. His thoughts skittered like water on a hot skillet, racing a mile a minute yet amounting to nothing tangible. Amidst the grumblings, another silence drew his attention; looking up into tormented blue eyes, he quickly tried to rearrange his expression into something resembling sympathy, with moderate results. Matsumoto looked every bit as frustrated as he did, a number of warring emotions playing across her features. The swell of arguing voices babbled over and around them, leaving them alone in their little bubble of quiet misery. Neither felt the need to try to speak over the miasma; even if Rangiku had spoken up, Hitsugaya had the sinking feeling her questions would be ones he couldn't answer. He was almost grateful she wasn't talking to him; gods knew he was feeling inadequate enough for one day.

"Enough." Yamamoto finally rumbled, to instantly dropping silence. "This argument is pointless and the situation is indeed more complicated than some would suggest." No one was named, although Byakuya neatly hid a faint but pretty blush. "First things first; the matter of the girl." Matsumoto stiffened, Hitsugaya throwing the captain-commander a sharp look. "She cannot be allowed to remain alone in the tower, stewing in her own schemes. She must be dealt with and properly supervised."

Glancing at Matsumoto, Hitsugaya spoke quickly. "Yamamoto-sutaicho, I am at fault for her being here today. Allow me to take responsibility-"

"No." Yamamoto answered roughly in a tone that brooked no argument. "Your judgement of the situation has been compromised, that much is clear." Hitsugaya felt his own blush spreading, fuled by a frustrated fury he seemed to be wearing as commonly as his own haori lately. "What is also clear is that the girl is operating according to flawed assumptions and pretenses. Her delusions are driving her resolve, and they run deep. This damage must be undone if we are to subvert her plans."

Matsumoto drew herself up, her back stiffening in a defensiveness that was more instinct than anything else, and Hitsugaya could see the brittleness of her resolve. "If there is anyone who can understand her, it's me-"

"Understanding is not enough." Though he shut her down as thoroughly as he had Hitsugaya, Yamamoto's voice had a rarely-heard softness to it. "She must be handled properly, and you cannot deny that much of her anger is focused on you, Third captain. It would not do to add to her belligerance." Mastumoto nearly wilted, tears springing to her eyes; though it was spoken gently, everyone could see the misery on her face.

Renji stirred. "Well, what the hell _are_ we supposed to do with her? She's nuttier than a breadbox, that much is sure..."

Matsumoto twitched but Hitsugaya got there first. "Stuff it, Renji," he growled. The red-haired captain just glowered right back at him.

"You're actually gonna _defend_ her? After what she put you two through?" Hitsugaya practically bared teeth, but Renji steamrolled on, gesticulating and throwing a glare at Yamamoto-sutaicho. "All due respect, why the hell are we even discussing this? She's threatened Sereitei, broken any number of laws, nearly killed two captains...why _exactly_ are we treating her with kid gloves?"

"Her parentage, Abarai-taicho." Shunsui growled softly, an almost dangerous look in his dusky eyes. "That complicates things."

"Tch, hardly." Ikkaku spat, sitting back and crossing his arms. "I mean, sorry Rangiku - but if MY kid ever tried to kill me, I'd hardly be sitting around wondering how to make the little brat feel better."

"That's not it at ALL-" Matsumoto spluttered, furious.

"No, it isn't," Ikkaku agreed nastily. "She may be half yours, but she's also half Gin's - the murderous traitor who YOU killed, right? No offense, but it's pretty damn clear which parent she takes after-"

Hitsugaya growled audibly, his hand already wrapped around Hyourinamrou's hilt, but not before Matsumoto's brandished a fully drawn Heineko. The power level in the room surged...

"ENOUGH." The single word thunderclapped through the room, freezing everyone in a furious tableau. Yamamoto pinned the room with a glance, and before a second or two had time to pass at least three captains were sporting a blush of chastisement on their cheeks. Defenses were swiftly dropped, the seething atmosphere rapidly descending from terse into downright uncomfortable.

"I'll take her."

Heads whipped around. No one had seen the Ninth captain return. He stood without moving, looking at no one but the captain commander as a long silence waxed and waned.

"And why," Yamamoto rumbled, "should you be the one to take responsibility for the girl, this terrorist whom you do not know and to whom you owe nothing?" Hitsugaya flet his throat tighten at the harshness of the commander, but kept his tongue. He prayed Matsumoto would do the same; the air was thick enough to cut with a zanpaktou.

For a prolonged moment, Shuuhei introspected. "Because," he said softly. "I know the path she is walking." His gaze was calm and steady. "I can show her the way back to truth."

Hitsugaya's breath caught; it was a stark admission, and honest enough to be costing Shuuhei greatly. Just how high that cost could not be said - Shuuhei's devestation at Tousen's betrayal was far from secret, but no one knew how he had managed to survive the wreckage. Whatever Hisagi had gone through, he had done so privately. Somehow, the man had found a way to emerge from his blind faith and idolization of his predecessor and reconcile himself to reality without losing his sanity. Looking at the dark-haired captain, Hitsugaya could see some of the shadows of that journey etched into the man's sharp face. It was difficult to look at; Hitsugaya swallowed hard and pinned his gaze on Yamamoto, waiting. It wasn't until his lungs started burning that he realized he was holding his breath.

Yamamoto-sutaicho remained motionless for what seemed like forever. "What you say has merit," he finally reverberated. "We will discuss this further, and in private. Captains dismissed."

Hitsugaya let all his breath out in a whoosh, the tension beginning to dissipate as the room cleared out. Shunsui and Ukitake left together, their heads close together and their voices low. Soi Fon stormed out with a face like soured milk, followed by the swift shunpo of Ikkaku wearing a similar disgust. Renji managed an expression that at least approached sympathetic before he, too disappeared. Hisagi hadn't moved, his gaze still trained on the commander general. Hitsugaya scrubbed his hands through his hair, pivoting his head to look for Matsumoto; she was walking slowly towards the door, Unohana at her side with a comforting arm across her shoulders. They were murmuring together, Matsumoto sniffling softly, so Toushirou turned to follow.

"Hitsugaya-taicho, remain for a moment."

Freezing in his tracks, Toushirou glanced at the captain commander in surprise. A brief hesistation allowed him to catch the flash of Rankigu and Retsu disappearing together before he turned to obey. Yamamoto-dono grunted; there was no masking his displeasure. "You are to accept a special assignment of high priority in the real world."

Hitsugaya's mouth worked silently for a moment. "Yamamoto-sutaicho, what could possilby be more important-?"

"That is for me to decide. You are to report within the hour to the Urahara shop in Karakura Town for further details. That is all." Ancient eyes bored into sea green, before they shifted to regard his Ninth captain. For all the world, it was as if Hitsugaya ceased to exist, a feeling that instantly confused and infuriated him.

"But general-"

"That was an order, Tenth captain. You are dismissed." This time Yamamoto didn't even bother to look at him, the rebuff as complete as it was humiliating.

Pulling together whatever shreds of dignity remained to him, Hitsugaya swallowed his frustration and executed a military bow.

"As you wish, Captain Commander."

* * *

This is utterly ridiculous, Hitsugaya seethed, alone in his administrative office. He stood as if lost in the center of the room, trying to figure out why nothing made sense any more. Waves of roiling fury swept through him, clouding his vision, but he couldn't say exactly what he was mad at, or why. _Everything_, it seemed, and nothing at all. He wanted to burn the building down around him, or freeze it solid or..or..._something_. His hands clenched in and out of fists and it was remarkably difficult not to scream. When his eyes started to burn he finally blew out hard and forced himself to get a grip.

Carefully, he reviewed the earlier confrontation. The disconcerting presence of Leiko herself, and the way her bearing made it seem as though Gin himself stood in the room, returned from the dead. Her scathing accusations, the vicious ultimatum. Shuuhei's unlikely proposal...slowly, he realized that he was desperately pinning all his hopes on Hisagi's offer, without really knowing why. Toushirou's own past experiences echoed painfully through him.

After all, Toushirou knew what it was like to walk through hell, risk everything, in order to show someone the way home.

But in his case, he loved Matsumoto, trusted her implicitly, had known in his heart that she would find her way back to him. Hisagi and Leiko had no such bond; Shuuhei was cold as a granite block, and in addition to hating shinigami the only bond Leiko had was with her dead father. Just because Shuuhei had lost his mentor, and Leiko a parent...would it be enough? Would she even recognize the sacrifice Shuuhei was making, the risks he was taking for her? For him to choose to revisit that devestating ordeal in order to reach Leiko...it just might work, but the odds..._gods_, the odds were so long...

Worst of all, it was someone else taking the risk. Once again, Hitsugaya found himself incapable of doing anything useful, his impotence allowing the people he loved most to get hurt. He felt sick to his stomach; very slowly, he reached a hand up and rubbed tiredly at his eyes.

_Fuck it - a real world assignment is probably just what I need_. At least it was something to do, to focus on, instead of standing helplessly in his office while he slowly drowned on feelings he didn't understand. Galvanized by the task at hand, he turned and stormed up to his room, realizing along the way that he had spent so much time lost in thought that now he wouldn't have time to tell Matsumoto where he was going. _Bah, she's safe at Fourth squad, and chances are I'll be back before she knows I was gone_. He settled that answer within himself, because it was easier than admitting that he was reluctant to see her. He didn't want to upset Rangiku any more than she already was with the additional news of his departure and...well, there were other reasons.

Like the way she flinched whenever he touched her, or retreated into herself when he left her alone for more than a few minutes. The shadows in her eyes that he could do nothing about. He stopped that train of thought just short of admitting to himself that it would be a relief to take an assignment he was not likely to fail at completely.

Had he been in a clearer state of mind, he might of recognized how desperately he needed to be relieved of his disappointment in himself.

Grabbing the few basics he would need for a trip to Karakura Town, Hitsugaya shoved further thought aside and took off for the soulgate. Nodding absently at the kido lieutenant maintaining the passageway, he slipped through it before his own guilty conscience could catch up to him.

Karakura Town was little changed, despite the time that had passed since Toushirou had last visited. Making his way more from memory than conscious effort, he drifted absently towards the seedy part of town where the small run-down store was located. He didn't even realize he'd arrived until a soft, brightly colored towel was thrown in his face.

"Ah-sooo! There you are - we've been waiting for you!! Hurry up, we're going to be late." Urahara Kisuke, former-captain-turned-annoying-shopkeeper was tossing numerous bundles out of the shop front into the courtyard, pausing to grimace briefly. "Where's your luggage?"

"Luggage?" Histugaya parroted, confused. "What are you talking about? I was sent here on assignment directly by Yamamoto-dono; why would I need anything other than my zanpaktou?" Annoyed, he fingered Hyourinmarou; the ice dragon crouched within him, alert. Neither one of them had an easy time trusting this man.

Urahara grasped at his chest in mock horror. "You didn't bring _anything_?? You're going to make a terrible tourist. Or perhaps an excellent one - you'll have more room in your suitcase for souvenirs!" He abruptly grinned. "Don't worry - you can borrow my swim trunks. I swim in the nude." With a licenscious wink, Kisuke turned and yelled into the house. "Come on kids, last one on the plane is a rotten goose!! Or is it egg? I can never remember..."

"Urahara, what the hell is going on here?" Toushirou growled, jumping out of the way as Tessai came hurtling out of the building with a kid under each arm, apologizing profusely before swooshing by and stuffing the anklebiters into a waiting taxi. As Jinta protested loudly in the background, Hitsugaya glared and planted his hands on his hips, squaring off across from that stupid striped hat. "What about my assignment-?"

"Oh, _that_. Yes." Urahara got a strange, enigmatic look on his face, grinning faintly and with a healthy dose of smugness. "It's a _terrifically_ important assignment. I asked Yama-dono himself to send me the best possible candidate." With a wink, Kisuke tossed a suitcase at Hitsugaya. "You're to carry my luggage until further notice."

Hitsugaya let the suitcase bounce off him and onto the ground, uncaught. Or tried to, anyway - the damn thing was stuffed full of bricks or something similarly cumbrous, and instead he found himself sprawled on the ground fingering what promised to be a cracked rib. "Kisuke - are you insane!?"

Urahara grinned. "Its quite possible. The jury is still out. I'll keep you posted." The sharpness in his gaze shifted disconcertingly; for a split-second, he was perfectly sobersided. "Nonetheless, that is your assignment - to be at my singular disposal for as long as I require. Feel free to check with Central. Now, if you do not carry it out we will miss our flight, so get moving, if you please. There is a _lot_ of luggage...kids and their toys, you know?" He winked and swaggered down the steps and across the cluttered courtyard, jauntily swinging his cane. "I suggest you take a different taxi and meet us at the airport." With a final grin, Kisuke hopped into the waiting cab and, closing the door, stuck his head out to wave. "Flight 261, leaves in one hour - don't be late!!

It took a good portion of that hour for Hitsugaya to verifiy, via no less than three hell butterflies, that there was nothing for it but to load thirty-seven pieces of luggage into a cab and take off like a bat out of hell for the local airport. By the time he got on the waiting airplane, he realized he hadn't even had time to see what their destination was and no amount of glaring, yelling or issuing direct orders would get anything more out of Kisuke than a smirky grin.

As if that was not bad enough, he was the last person to board the plane and by then all the first class seats were taken.

So it was the Hitsugaya Toushirou, captain of the Tenth squad of the Gotei 13, was forced to fold his long, lanky body into an economy seat and sit through what turned out to be an indeterminably long flight - a human experience he could have lived without and which proved to be an exotic form of torture. He was surrounded by pale-faced humans who didn't speak the same language as him and could not tell him where they were going or how long they were to be encapsulated in this flying machine. Worse yet, there were no landmarks to reference as nothing but cobalt-blue ocean spread out below him as far as his eyes could see. The in-flight movie was a revolting romantic comedy that was so insipid he actually found it physically painful to watch, he had no human money to buy a snack and the plane made such a horrible thrumming sound that he couldn't even sleep. Trying to tune out the endless drone, Hitsugaya grumbled at the only person he at which he could lash out.

_Flying with you is_ so _much better_.

Hyourinmarou's eyes glittered in empathy and no small amusement. _Indeed_.

Hitsugaya carefully moved his neighboring human's elbow from its painful location jabbing into his sore ribs, doing his best not to wake the man. '_Indeed'? Is that all you can say?_

_What else would you have me say_? Wise as he was, the ice dragon was hardly a conversationalist and for once Toushirou half-wished he'd been granted a more locquacious zanpaktou.

_You could tell me where we are going_, Hitsugaya grumped.

_I do not know where we are going_, Hyourinmarou rumbled, slowly withdrawing. _But I would strongly suggest that, wherever it is, it will be exactly where you need to be_. The glittering eyes winked and went out, Toushirou's soul sending out the distinct impression that it was napping.

He mulled that over, irritated by its obscurity. Stubbornly tuning out the world and closing his eyes, all Hitsugaya could think was: _So much for being back before Matsumoto knows I'm gone. She's going to kill me_...

* * *

"Whatever is the matter, Toushirou-san?"

Hitsugaya's left eye twitched. "My name is Hitsugaya-taicho, dammit. And nothing is wrong other than the fact that I have sat on this beach for three days now and you still won't tell my what the hell I'm doing here." Frustrated, he poked at his latest sunburn and restrained a wince.

Kisuke stretched, yawning extensively and sloshing a little bit of his mai tai. "I told you - you are here on a very important assignment."

Histugaya sighed. Three days now, and it was the closest thing to an answer he could get. Even the kids and Tessai answered him the same way:

"We're here on assignment, Hitsugaya-taicho." At least Uruyu addressed him properly, though for all her cuteness she was tighter-lipped than a clam.

"Quit moping, dammit - I'm building a sandcastle!! Get the fuck out of the way." Jinta was refreshingly honest despite his terrible manners.

"It is an assignment of utmost importance," Tessai would declare in nearly awed tones. "You will have to ask _tenshou_ for the details..."

Details that never came. Oh, Toushirou had learned a few things, empirically. They were on a remote island in the middle of an ocean, surrounded by lush vegetation and friendly local residents. The wildlife was teeming (especially a particularly obnoxious type of brightly-colored fowl that liked to trumpet at dawn...and pretty much any other time of day, for that matter), the weather was warm and sunny and the ocean calm and ever-present. Every morning featured a stunning sunrise, so he knew they were facing east, athough the size of the island had yet to be determined as they had yet to travel much further than the grounds of their hotel. Instead of exploring, they settled into some strange kind of routine.

Each morning, after daybreak and the wretched fowl chorus, Kisuke would gather them all together and head for the beach. Jinta and Uruyu would dig in the sand (which usually involved Uruyu getting buried as deeply as Jinta could manage without smothering her) and Tessai would wade in the lagoon looking at the brightly colored fish until it was time to rescue Uruyu and scold Jinta. Urahara would sunbathe in various states of undress and whistle at any scantily-clad, attractive human that passed by - appearantly regardless of gender, which embarrassed Hitsugaya greatly. Once peak 'tanning hours' had passed, they would all trudge back to the hotel for food and drink, at which time Kisuke would proceed to get moderately intoxicated and complain loudly about the sunburn he'd aquired that morning while Tessai tried to manage the combined hijinks of the rambunctious (and appearantly never-aging) children. Afternoons were spent at the nearby town shopping for souvenirs, which seemed to feature grand attempts to get Hitsugaya to buy brightly colored shirts with flowers printed on them, until he protested loudly and they were asked to leave the store. Many pictures were taken. By evening it was dinner, more drinks for Urahara, and then they would all sit in the wall-less lobby playing pointless board games until the kids fell asleep, Urahara passed out and Tessai had to pick them all up and put them to bed.

It was then, late in the evening, when all was quiet and the breezes drifted fragrantly through the open lobby, that Toushirou experienced anything other than frustrated annoyance. Those few moments in the dark, with the sound of the waves in the distance and the rustling palm trees, he felt almost...peaceful.

Almost.

But then he would remember Rangiku, and Leiko. And Soul society, and the squad no doubt suffering due to his absence. And this gods-forsaken assignment that made no sense, had no point and apparantly no time limit, and the fury and irritation would build up again. Feeling tired and old, Hitsugaya would trudge back to his room and drift into a restless sleep.

On the fourth morning, tired of this nonsense, he demanded Urahara either tell him what exactly they were supposed to be doing or else let him go back to his duty.

"We _are_ doing our duty. Isn't the surf breathtaking today?" Ostensibly blind to Hitsugaya's seething fury, Kisuke pursed his lips and regarded the young captain with a creased brow. "Oh, no wonder you're cranky - you've burned again." Urahara clucked with concern. "I was afraid that would happen, with your complexion. You've got to ease into it, or your delicate flesh will never hold up." Fishing around in his beach bag, the man pulled out a bottle and squirted some cream into his hands. "Here - let me get some lotion on you..."

Without a word, Hitsugaya dumped a half a ton of snow on the nearly-naked man and, pivoting on his heel, stormed off down the beach.

* * *

"Awwww...how _cute_!"

Urahara glanced up from where he was still brushing snow off his lap, glowering. "It is not _cute_. It's just cold. It's usually much more impressive...I just got _snow_ dumped on me, thank you very much..."

Yoruichi stifled a snort, stretching her long limbs and pushing the limits of her very small bikini. "That's nothing - you try keeping a bankai leashed whenever her owner loses control while she's fast asleep and deep in memories." She shuddered prettily. "Now _that's_ a real challenge."

"Well, I'm glad I'm not the only one suffering," replied Kisuke with a grin, his eyes locked on her lithe, curvaceous form. "Are you cold, too? We could warm each other up...?"

Yoruichi expertly swiped his hand away from untying her bikini bottoms. "How's your 'assignment' going?"

"Well enough," Kisuke replied, hissing and nursing his bruised fingers. "Between the kids, the enforced immobility and my singular charm, we're driving him bezerk. He should be cracking any day now." His tone took one of those unexpectedly serious turns as he looked out at the glittering water. "Then he can really start to heal." He glanced up at his partner, reaching a hand up to caress her leg absently. It wasn't brushed away. "And your 'assignemnt' - is she doing all right?"

Yoruichi sighed, plunking herself down in the sand. "As well as can be expected for someone who has been through what she has." Amber eyes tightened, molten. "She's a mess, completely different from the last time she broke, going by the records Unohana gave us. Instead of being catatonic, she won't stop crying." Wrapping mocha-hued arms around her knees, she drew them close. "The scenery and all the girl-time is helping, but it will be a while yet."

"Well, I still say you got the easy assignment. Rangiku has the biggest heart in Soul Society - she'll come around." Kisuke pouted. "I've got the Ice King."

Yoruichi twined her fingers through his for a brief moment before standing to leave. "Quit whining, Kisuke; we _both_ got it easy." Turning to leave before Hitsugaya could return and see them colluding, Yoruichi made to head back for the hotel on the other side of the island and the beautiful, hurting woman who waited for there. Under her breath, she murmered dryly before winking away.

"You couldn't pay me enough to be in Hisagi Shuuhei's shoes."


	23. Best Laid Plans

In a private session attended only by the First division leaders, Unohana and himself, Shuuhei carefully and methodically laid out his plans for Leiko.

"Are you quite certain that is _appropriate_?" Sasakibe Choujirou was not generally given to outbursts, but even he seemed thrown by the Ninth captain's proposal, elegant if bushy eyebrows hovering near his hairline.

"Whether it is 'appropriate' or not is beside the point. I am convinced it is necessary." Shuuhei spared a glance at the Commander General, who had not budged a hair since his recitation had begun. That could either be a good thing or a bad thing. "I am confident it is the only way to get through a resolve as strong as Ichimaru Leiko's and get her to capitulate. Or at least doubt her own conviction long enough to see reason. Either way, the alternatives are worse."

"But Shuuhei, she might not even survive-!" At a twitch from Yamamoto-dono, Sasakibe's mouth clacked shut, although he still radiated silent disapproval.

"There are real threats to the girl in what you propose," the ancient rumbled. "Is it truly worth the risk you would be taking with both of your safety?"

"I have done this myself, alone and without a guide, sutaicho." Hisagi replied, the sound of his voice like the whisper of steel as it was unsheathed. "I can bring us both back alive." He deliberately did not promise to bring them back unharmed, and knew for a fact his acerbic leader noticed.

A long silence took its course.

"Fourth captain - you have yet to tell us your thoughts on this strategy.

"It is not without risk," Retsu said in you usual placid tone. A tiny frown marred her countenance and her posture was rather more solomn than Hisagi would have liked. "Losing the girl would cost us little tactically - alive or dead, the commoners will attack either way unless she is swayed from her course - but to lose a captain would cost us dearly."

"I have survived this before-" Shuuhei began again, every ounce of his dignity employed to keep his tone from being argumentative, but Retsu cut him off in a soft voice that still cut.

"It is not _you_ I am afraid of losing, Hisagi-san." Those midnight eyes were more piercing than usual despite the rather affectionate familiarity; Hisagi was reminded not to underestimate how deeply this woman's insight could run. "I can think of at least one captain who would suffer significant damage if the child were to die." Hisagi shifted, unable to meet that gaze any longer as Retsu's tone softened a hair. "While I do not say the risk is not worth taking, I will not allow you to enter into this agenda without properly realizing how many souls are riding on this venture."

"_I know_," Hisagi grated, his velvet voice momentarily gravelly as a slight tremor ran through him. Few of even his closest friends truly knew how deeply his passions ran and how assiduously Shuuhei worked to control them. One of those friends stood before him now, and he could hardly fathom why she felt the need to test his sense of responsibility. "All too well, I know - and if protecting soul society and _every single_ soul within was not a duty I was willing to accept, I would never have taken the white haori in the first place." But he already knew it was not Unohana he had to convince.

Hisagi locked eyes with the powerful man standing in command, let his own burn a bit brighter than usual, allowing Yamamoto-dono to stare deeply into them and beyond the defenses he usually had mounted behind the windows to his soul. Uncomfortable as it was for him to make himself so transparent - and in the presence of his peers no less - it the only way to pass this test. For only Yamamoto Genruusai would have been able to seen beyond any falsehoods, even ones that he might be hiding from himself, and find the truth.

It was one thing Hisagi knew, and it was one of the few things that had allowed him to survive the very experience he had just volunteered to repeat.

Breathing deeply, he let Yamamoto see that, too.

The time that passed was excruciating, but it was also necessary, so Hisagi waited with every ounce of composure he could muster and did his very best to breathe without labor.

Finally withdrawing his reiatsu to a more tolerable level, Yamamoto grunted. "I would have the your final thoughts, Lieutenant."

"Besides being risky and unorthodox, it is borderline uncouth. I do not approve." Sasakibe had the grace to look nearly as apologetic as he looked indominable.

"Fourth captain?"

"I believe it would take a miracle to sway Ichimaru Leiko from her path." At the dulcet if truthful tones, Hisagi tried to ignore the feeling of his stomach slowly sinking. It was a good thing he did. "And yet..." A sigh, accompanied by a look that was a little too poignant. "We have seen our fair share of wars in this century past. And our fair share of miracles. I know which of those options I prefer to work towards."

Hisagi's breath drew in and held, but Yamamoto-sutaicho spoke without pause, swiftly enough to suggest that his decision had already been made.

"Then go, Ninth Captain, and see to your miracle."

* * *

Not one to be caught off guard twice, Leiko was wide awake the next time the quiet, dark-haired captain entered her cell. Not that she let on, of course - one could learn an awful lot about a person based on how they approached a beautiful woman asleep. An honorable man would clear his throat, announcing his presence promptly for propriety's sake. A lecher would watch as long as possible, waiting to catch her off-guard as soon as she woke. A pervert wouldn't bother waiting until she awoke.

An enemy would kill her while she was vulnerable, wipe his blade on her tunic and be long gone before the body was discovered.

Annoyingly, this creep was none of the above. What he _was_, was far too perceptive by half and not the least bit fooled by her.

Approaching her pallet and dropping to his heels in a crouch at a respectful distance, he spoke without preamble, as if he knew she was perfectly conscious.

"You have a choice."

Irritated and for some reason feeling slightly stupid, Leiko clung to her feigned repose and refused to respond. The word 'petulant' flashed through her mind but she firmly ignored it. He continued, a hint of amusement coloring his tone and, embarrasingly, her cheeks.

"You may stay here, under guard and with no freedom or personal contact. You will constrained an contained in every way, with no further audience or appeal, and utterly unable to work or petition for any of the changes you so ardently seek."

_Gee, _that's _a hell of an option_. Behind closed lids, her eyes rolled, noting his dramatic pausing before dropping the other shoe. Despite herself her left eyebrow twitched. _Dammit_! He took his time, long enough for her imagination to wonder what the other option could be. _Death, hard labor, torture_...?

"Or you can come with me."

Here eyes flew open. That was not what she had been expecting.

She'd also just blown her cover. That it hadn't really been fooling him barely mattered; with an intensity born of several sources, Leiko glared daggers.

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" she snapped, jerking herself upright into a sit. "Go with you _where_??"

That damned fool didn't answer; he just crouched there staring at her with those obsidian eyes that burned right through to the back of her head. Her stomach squirreled, but she refused to acknowledge the unfathomable sensation, her street-born paranoia snapping into action. Cocking her head and narrowing her eyes at the man, regarded him like the threat he surely was. "What's the catch?

"The catch?" Did the corner of his lip just twitch?

_Arrogant bastard!_ "You are offering me a choice. A pretty damned obvious one, if you ask me - any two-bit fool would choose to leave a prison cell." She shifted her position into a near-crouch that left her many options to move quickly, defensive and offensive alike, and ached to have any kind of weapon at her disposal. He noticed. _Definitely_ too perceptive.

"Are you choosing to come with me?"

"Are you calling me a two-bit fool?"

"You are refusing my offer."

"You are not answering my question."

His lip quirked again, but this time she felt a tiny surge of victory. A strange sound filled the room; she realized he was chuckling.

"It was suggested that you would be difficult." He stood, reaching into his hakama and fishing around. "I told them I would be sincerely disappointed if you were otherwise." She glared at him suspiciously, but there was no mocking in his tone. In fact, for the moment he was all business. "Yes, there is a catch."

Now he was hovering over her, and she would not stand for that. As gracefully as she could, she swept her blankets aside and rose to her feet, noting that even standing upright, the bastard was _still_ hovering over her. _Does he _have _to be so freakishly tall??_ she grumped to herself, stretching for more height before his drawing out of an object distracted her.

"If you come with me, you will have to stay with me. You will not be allowed to run around unsupervised and must remain in my presence at all times. And," he drawled, the object dangling from his hand. "You have to wear this."

It took a moment for her to figure out what it was. Actually, she had to glance at her would-be babysitter before it finally clicked, her eyes locking in on the similar adornment wrapped around his own neck. "You want me to wear a _collar?!"_

He had the grace to look slightly abashed. "It is a tracking device. It will allow me to monitor you," he raised a hand at her spluttering beginnings of a fit, "in more ways than one. You are...not looked upon favorably, and I will be able to better protect you with the aid of the banding."

"_It's a fucking dog collar_!!" Lieko screamed, furious. "And what the fuck makes you think I can't protect myself?!"

"You will be more vulnerable than you are accustomed to being." His eyes darked, apologetic but unwavering. "This band will also seal whatever reiatsu you have."

The next few moments were ugly. It was very difficult to properly express her outrage seeing as she had no furniture to throw - bedding materials being all kinds of soft and not the least bit satisfying to throw - and the man himself was too damned fast for her to kick him in the privates. Finally, panting and even more frustrated than when she started, she fairly spat at him.

"FUCK you, I'm not doing it." Pivoting on her heel, she stormed over to the window and threw herself into the narrow slit until she was sitting with her arms crossed and pointedly staring outside.

Predictably he approached, no doubt to try to pursuade her to submit to his goulish shackle, so she refused to acknowledge him; mostly out of spite and partly because furious tears had welled up in her eyes and the _last_ person in soul society she wanted to see her crying was this tatooed imbecile.

"I understand." She was so surpised at the sentiment she didn't notice him dropping the cursed neck thing in her lap until he was already walking away. "The offer stands, should you change your mind."

She almost threw it out the window. Almost. But she was a sharp little cookie and something was nagging at her. Fingering the obligue piece of soft leather, she spoke after the retreating figure.

"You knew I would refuse." The footfalls slowed, halted. "You didn't have to tell me it would seal my reiatsu - you could have just said it was a tracking thing and let me put it on. I wouldn't have known the truth until it was too late. And yet," her voice got softer, and for a moment her eyes started urning again, "you told me the truth." She let her voice harden. _This has to be a trick_... "Why?"

"Because you deserve the truth," he replied softly, and she surged with hatred at the sincerity in his voice. "I would not ask you to make a choice based on falsehood. And," he continued, for all the world as if he was surprised at what he was saying, "because I trust you to choose wisely once given all the facts."

Her head whipped around in disbelief. "You _trust_ me??" _Don't trust don't trust don't trust..._ "Why the flying hell would _you_ trust me?"

He shrugged, quite possibly embarrassed by his admission although he answered truthfully enough. "Because I choose to." Leaving her thunderstuck and utterly without rejoinder, he turned once more for the door. "Let me know if you change your mind."

He was halfway out the door before she lurched to her feet and called after him.

"Hey, Fuck-face!" He stopped and turned, those damnably-haunting black eyes widening as she threw the stupid piece of pliable hide around her shoulders; it fastened itself as if it was alive. Hiding a painful gulp and wondering - not for the first time - just what the hell she was getting herself into, she strode after him.

"I just changed it. Let's blow this joint."


	24. About Damn Time

"_Mommy_!!'

Ashley clutched her ice cream cone a little harder and tried not to cry too much; it was harder to see when her eyes were all wet. But it was really hard _not_ to cry when she couldn't see Mommy anywhere - and Mommy _should_ have been easy to find. She was wearing a yellow skirt that felt soft like kittens and perfectly matched the yellow polka dots on Ashley's favorite swimsuit. If only Ashley hadn't insisted on getting ice cream before going back to the hotel! If she had only been patient like Mommy was always telling her to be, then maybe she wouldn't be all alone in this big, scary place with shops and people and no Mommy anywhere...

Opening her quivering little mouth to the shout again, Ashley gripped her ice cream cone a little too hard and before she could so much as sqwawk, the BubbleGum Cherry Dream rolled right off the sugar cone and plopped wetly onto the ground.

It was just too much for a five-year old to take, even one that was turning six in just four months and three days. Abandoning all attempts to be brave, Ashley plunked herself down on the ground next to her ruined dessert and started to bawl.

"Aww...hey kid, what's wrong?" A tall woman with long, pretty hair seemed to figure it out on her own and started _tsk_ing right away; it wasn't her mommy's kind of _tsk_, but it made Ashely feel a little better anyway. "Aw, looks like you dropped your ice cream cone, huh?" Snuffling, Ashley nodded and jabbed a sticky fist into her chubby cheek, rubbing away a hot tear. "Here, it's ok, we can get you a new one if you want- "

"I want my _Mommy_!!" Ashley started crying again, big alligator gulps that hurt her throat. In one swift, practiced motion, the pretty lady scooped her up, even though Ashley was covered in ice cream and tears and her butt was all dirty from sitting on the ground.

"Oh, of course you do. Tell you what, why don't we walk around and we'll find her together, ok?" Ashley wasn't sure if she was supposed to be carried around by strangers, but this lady was very soft and smelled nice. Pretty Lady brushed Ashley's mouse-colored bangs off her forehead and smiled a very pretty smile. "I'm nice and tall, see? And if I carry you, then you can see really far and we'll spot your mommy in no time." That sounded like a good plan, but strangers were supposed to be bad people... Still undecided, Ashley stuck a plump thumb into her mouth and considered. Pretty Lady smiled again and tapped her on the end of her nose. "And once we find your mommy, _then_ we'll get you another ice cream. Ok?"

A deal no toddler could resist. "Okay," murfled Ashley from around her wet thumb, not realizing that she had stopped crying. Snuggling herself into Pretty Lady's ample cleavage, she wiped a sticky hair out of her face.

"Okay!" Nodding happily, the Pretty Lady started to turn in a cirlcle. "Now, what does your mommy look like, is she as pretty as you are?"

Ashley nodded enthusiastically, giggling. "She's bootiful!" Pretty Lady laughed and asked her more questions - what was Mommy wearing, where they were going, where they had been - while she walked slowly in ever-widening circles, ranging farther and farther without ever really walking out of sight of the ice cream shop. Before long, Ashley was giggling harder and twining sticky fingers into the ginger-colored hair, while Pretty Lady tickled her to the point where she almost didn't hear the shout.

"_Ashley!?"_

The little brunette squirmed around violently. "_Mommy_!!"

Like a flash, Ashley was out of Pretty Lady's arms and hurtling across the marketplace. Throwing herself into the flurry of soft yellow, Ashley completely forgot about her sticky face and hands, and it seemed like Mommy forgot too, because she was hugged really, really hard. "I got lost and I dropped my ice cream and the Pretty Lady helped me find you!!"

Just like that she was being lifted again, into familiar arms. Mommy looked like she was kinda mad and kinda scared and mostly happy. "Ashley, I told you to stay close!" Even though her voice sounded angry, she kissed Ashely on the cheek before looking back at Pretty Lady. "Oh my god, you have no idea - I can't thank you enough...?"

"Rangiku," offered Pretty Lady with another smile, even though this one looked a little more crooked than before. "And it was no problem, really." Pretty Ran Lady reached out and teased a lock of Ashley's hair, just for a second. "We had fun, didn't we?" Ashley nodded enthusiastically, everything better now that Mommy was found.

"Ashley, be sure to thank Rangiku," Mommy encouraged, and they both laughed at the resulting shy little mumble. Mommy hugged her tight again. "Oh Lord, when I'd gotten back to the hotel and you weren't there..." Mommy smiled at Pretty Ran Lady again. "How can I ever repay you?"

Rangiku laughed and tossed her hair, but Ashley piped up first. "She promised me ice cream!"

"Ashley, don't be silly," Mommy replied, aghast. "_We_ should buy _her_ ice cream for helping us out, huh?" This worked just fine with Ashley, who squealed happily and jumped to the ground, launching herself in the direction of the ice cream shack.

The woman who was Mommy just shook her head. "God, Rangiku - what a pretty name! - you can't imagine how scared I was. I just took my eyes off her for a seccond, I swear!" The woman shook her head ruefully. "That quickly, they just _vanish_...well, you know how kids can get."

In a miserable rush, Rangiku felt the energy seeping back out of her. "Uhm, yeah." _No, actually. I kind of don't_. "Thank you for the ice cream, but I'm - " Throwing one last look at the exuberant toddler waving at her, she turned and started walking away, eyes burning. "I'm not hungry. Thank you," she finished lamely before hoofing it out of there.

Surprising herself, Matsumoto made it all the way back to her own hotel maintaining a fair amount of composure; her eyes burned with the effort of holding back another crying jag and she could feel her face getting mottled, but with an effort she managed not to entirely disgrace herself. _If I can just get to me room, I can fall apart there..._

"Raaaangiku!!" Out of nowhere popped a stunning vision in mocha and amber hues, purple hair tossing on the breeze. It was a good thing Yoruichi was such a good friend, otherwise Rangiku might have had to be just a hair jealous of the fabulous way she pulled off a tiny bikini. With a wink, the darkling vixen held up a bottle of tanning lotion and some beach towels. "Girl-on-girl massages on the beach - what do you say?"

It should have been a no-brainer; no self-respecting female would pass up the chance for a massage, and not only was Yoruichi easily as accomplished a masseuse as Toshi (who was phenomenal, by the way) but her hands were a lot warmer. Add to that the endless fun of watching overwhelmed male tourists passing out at the sight of two buxom beauties rubbing oil all over each other and well...times just don't get any better than that.

"Sure! I would love to - just let me get my bathing suit..." Delivered cheerfully enough, Rangiku didn't quite manage to pivot around and sashay off fast enough to hide her miserable, puffy face. A quick grip on her arm stopped her in her tracks.

"Oh no you don't," scolded Yoruichi, pulling her back around to look at her with concern etching her beautiful features. Forget appearances - at the moment, Rangiku was just annoyed that the woman was so damned perceptive. "What happened?"

That quickly she dissolved into tears again. "Nothing really," Rangiku protested, trying to pull free. It didn't work. "I just- there was this kid, Ashley at the market - she was lost, and I helped her find her parents..." _Dammit_. Angrily, she scrubbed at the hot tears streaking her face and tried not to think about how stupid she was being.

"Aw, shit." A flash of almost-annoyance crossed Yoruichi's face before it was replaced with concern. "You ok?"

"I _should_ be," Matsumoto muttered angrily. "I'm a grown-up, a hundreds-year-old soul and a freakin' captain besides, I should be able to manage a stupid lost kid without completely losing my composure!" Realizing she was all but shouting, Rangiku blushed furiously.

Now there was no mistaking the anger on Yoruichi's face as she crossed her arms and fixed Rangiku with a decidedly discomforting stare. "Oh no, you're totally right. You should be nothing but calm, cool and efficient at all times. Certainly not the least bit human, soul or otherwise. It's not like you haven't been through a terrible ordeal or anything..."

"So what!?" That was definitely a shout, and Rangiku wrestled herself down to a hoarse sotto. "Countless shinigami have been through worse, on and off the battlefield - and they don't crumble pathetically like this!"

"Oh, really?" Yoruichi's face darkened. "I'll tell you a little secret - and I mean _secret_, I'd really hate to have to kill you for divulging this." Her thin smile wasn't entirely jesting. "There's an whole section of the SMC, headed by specialized Shihouin clan members, whose sole job is to piece back together men and women who have been shattered by lesser experiences than what you're going through." That caught Rangiku's attention as Yoruichi nodded grimly. "It's a closely guarded secret how many shinigami collapse under the demands of the SMC, as are the techniques we use to piece them back together, both emotionally and physically - but I can assure that it does NOT happen overnight. And in my experience, what takes out those meticulously-trained killing-machines is _still_ a far cry from losing a child, killing a lover-turned-traitor and then being sadistically tortured by their own presumed-dead daughter." She grimaced, a tad on the wry side. "Frankly, we're all trying to figure out how the hell you made it this far without going completely ape-shit."

Rangiku felt rooted to the spot, thunderstruck. "Really?" She blinked, very slowly. Words came even slower. "So...it's okay to be a pathetic mess?"

Yoruichi slipped into a sad grin. "Yes, actually. In fact, what none of us can't figure out is why on earth you think you _shouldn't_ be a mess."

Rangiku felt a wave of shy self-cosnciousness sweep through her. "You all feel this way?" she stammered, her brain trying to wrap itself around the possibility that none of her friends or colleagues were nearly as disappointed in her as she thought for sure they must be.

"You'd better believe it." Yoruichi's head cocked, those eyes starting to glitter sharply. "Who in their right minds would grant you less?"

Uncomfortable, Rangiku shrugged, the familiar wash of self-recrimination sweeping through her. "Toshi won't even look at me..."

"Toshirou won't look at you because he hates _himself_ for not protecting you." Amber eyes bored into her as Rangiku felt the world rock around her. "He blames his own weaknesses for absolutely everything that has happened, and he's almost as deeply entrenched in his own pity-party as you are." With a relentless glare, Yoruichi delivered the final straw. "And he's doing it alone."

"But why...?" Rangiku felt like her tongue was swollen, it was so hard to form words. "None of this is his fault! He didn't even know Leiko existed...why would he blame himself??" _And not me...??_

Yoruichi sniffed. "You're the love of his life - you tell me."

The overwhelming chagrin was instantaneous. _Of course he's blaming himself - that's what he does. He wouldn't be Hitsugaya Toushirou if he didn't heap way too much responsibility on himself._ The following wave of guilt proved impossible to quell. _And it's_ my _job to keep him from drowning in it - that's what_ I _do, goddammit._ It was a long moment before she could swallow, and still it was painful. For the first time in a very long time, she reached within herself, tentatively feeling for her ash cat; the zanpaktou's barely-restrained miserable frustration was palpable. _Where is he? Do you know?_

The cat coughed a dry growl that proved an excellent summation of her soul's exasperation. _It's about damn time,_ she rumbled, silver eyes flashing. O_f_ course _I know where he is._

The answer flooded her senses and easily trumped the preceeding and already earth-shattering conversation. With a grasp of reiatsu and a tiny puff of ozone, she was gone.

* * *

Wrinkling her nose ever so slightly at the lingering, smokey odor, Yoruichi did a tiny little spin and addressed the sprawling ficus behind her. "Well?" she huffed with a quirky twist to her lips. "What do you think?"

"Not half bad," replied the plant; after some prolonged rustling, a figure detatched itself. "Not exactly subtle, but I must admit it got the job done." Brushing himself off and firmly planting his striped hat back on the tousled flaxen locks, Kisuke grinned at her. "All in all, your clansman would be proud of you."

With a satisfied stretch, Yoruichi put a litttle bit of effort into hiding her victorious smirk. Only a very, very little bit of effort. "Well, don't take it too personally, that I got through to mine first." Her eyes were twinkling as her partner crossed the short distance between them. For all the centuries they'd spent together, she should have noticed the mischievous way his grey eyes were twinkling, but she was too immersed in self-congratulation. "I mean, I _am_ a Shihouin, and we do have a rather spectacular track-record of healing broken souls..." Her attempts at sounding magnanamous only served to to split her smug grin a little wider. "You'll get over the crushing humiliation of being bested by a girl, don't worry."

"Oh, I'm sure I'll manage," Kisuke murmured, dropping a quick kiss on her upturned lips. "Especially after you properly thank me."

She pulled back, eyebrows quirked. "Thank you? For what?" She was starting to get a very bad feeling in the pit of her stomach...

Kisuke's grin was far too boyish, intensifying the weird twist going on in her tummy. "For helping you, of course." He winked, pulling his hat down far enough to partially hide his laughing eyes. "Don't feel too badly - I admit you got the harder case after all, if that helps." A few strangled noises wove into his continued gloating. "I really didn't think it possible to crack the indominable Hitsugaya Toushirou before the warm and bubbly Rangiku, but seeing as he finally toppled sometime earlier today - sunrise, or something like that - _clearly_, I was in the wrong."

With a splutter, Yoruichi rode a wave of furious stymie. A quick, expert sweep of reiatsu gave her a pretty fair estimation of not only the location of the person in question, but also his general state of agitation and the distinct impression that he'd been stewing that way for a while now. At least a few hours..._quite possibly the whole morning_...With a sudden glare, Yoruichi tried to parry. "Well, that still doesn't mean you helped me!!"

"Oh, really?" Gods, she hated that look on his face!! Kisuke's grin was insufferable, but a shout from across the lobby caught her attention before she could continue protesting.

"Ashley, get back over here!" A young Mommy was industriously chasing a toddler across the hotel lobby, as Yourichi tried to remember why the name 'Ashley' sounded so damned familiar...

But before Yoruichi could react, the tiny brunette flew past her and jumped into Kisuke's arms. Turning her little pixie-face to him, she babbled happily. "Well? I did what you asked, can I go play on the beach with Jinta now?"

Patting her head with affection, Kisuke replied warmly. "Or course you can. Just be sure to put the gigai back where it belongs first, hai?"

"Hai!" Jumping back to the ground, the human-child form collapsed bonelessly as the black-haired, blue-eyed inhabitant shed her disguise. "Jinta promised he'd build me a huge sandcastle! All I have to do is lay on the sand so he can have a solid foundation..." With that, little Ururu skipped off.

"Uh, that doesn't sound good," Kisuke frowned. "Lilin-?"

"Yeah, yeah, I know." 'Mommy' quickly shed her disguise as well, and with a sigh the beleagured mod-soul gathered up both gigais and huffed off towards the beach. "I'll make sure Jinta doesn't bury her alive this time - gods know Tessai needs a break." With a toss of her blonde hair and a blue-eyed wink, Lilin vanished.

It was a long moment before Yoruichi could find words. "You _didn't_..."

Urahara's grin was blindingly brilliant. "I may have."

The look on her face could have peeled paint off a wall. "You _suck_."

Cautiously he approached, doing a fair job of trying to reign in his glee. "Don't worry, I won't tell any of your clan that you needed..._assistance_ healing a shattered soldier." Chuckling, he pulled her reluctant frame close.

Squirming, Yoruichi tried to glare. "I did _not_ need help! You _interfered_." Wilting slightly, her tone swerved towards defensive. "I never said _I_ was good at it..."

He laughed out loud, which made her madder because he knew she couldn't resist him when he was this adorable. "Fair enough." Kisuke nuzzled her ear affectionately. "Now, what do you say we get down to the 'thanking me' part..."

Which she did, but not before sucessfully kneeing him in the groin. Just to make a point.


	25. Alone Together Revisited

Mt. Waialeale, on the north end of the island of Kauai, has the dubious honor of being the wettest spot on planet Earth. With an annual rainfall of over 450 inches, the peak is almost always shrouded in clouds even on the hottest and sunniest of days - a sharp contrast from the rest of the tropical island, where only a few miles away the rainfall drops to a mere 10 inches a year. Itself the remains of an old, blasted-out volcano, the sharp, jutting cliffs of Waialeale press into the laden clouds in a jagged ring, their peaks cradling the moisture in a relentless embrace. When it rains, at least once a day and for no fewer than six hours, the run-off pours down its sides in a curtain of tiny waterfalls. Anyone brave enough to venture its slopes would swear it looked like the entire mountain itself was weeping.

An unlikely place for anyone to spend a great deal of time. Ideal, however, for someone who hates to show emotion and finds himself lost in it. Someone who wants to be alone, to hide his own tear-streaked face for a while.

Tucked miserably under the sprawling branches of a kukui tree, Hitsugaya felt the precipitation trickling down through his thick hair and across his cheeks in warm, wide tracks. A sharp contrast, as it turned out, with the frozen gems that occasionally joined the rain in its trek from his long, dark lashes to the saturated, mossy ground. In truth, he'd hoped to hide the tears in the warm droplets, but seeing as he had only cried once before he'd forgotten the state in which his tears tended to present themselves. Instead of mingling with the rain, erasing all proof of his agonized weakness, he found himself ringed with a bed of glittering gems, sparkling in the gloom and refusing to melt.

_I can't even_ cry _properly_, was the only coherent thought he could put together, as his black depression threatened to crush him.

_He'd been fine, really. The forced, strange vacation had been a frustrating burden, especially as the days had parlayed out over weeks, but at least he'd managed to keep himself relatively composed. At least he had managed not to disgrace himself with a public display of his weakness and failure as the month ticked glacially on..._

_Right up until this morning. Roused by the stunning sunrise, Hitsugaya had strayed from his hotel room, ambling morosely down the beach lost in his thoughts, which as usual had meandered their way back to Soul Society, his probably furious Rangiku and the painful ways in which he was failing them all..._

_Then a soft obstruction had cause him to stumble. Recovering his footing, he'd whipped around in surprise._

_"Hey, watch where you're going!!" Jinta had stood behind him, inexplicably awake at dawn and straddling the ruined remains of his latest sandcastle, glaring the way only an incensed and self-absorbed child could. "You ruined it!!" His little frame vibrated with affront. "Nice job - I'll never fix it now! What the fuck is wrong with you??"_

_Stupid, the inane ramblings of a child. No reason to get upset, nor take it personally. Certainly no reason for Toushirou's throat to tighten, for such pain to twinge through his chest. Wide-eyed and dumbstruck, all Hitsugaya had been able to do was flash away before completely falling apart, finding the most remote possible spot in which to lose himself..._

_What _is _wrong with me...??_ Wrapping his arms tighter around his knees and leaning further under the kukui tree's sprawling branches, Hitsugaya tried even harder to disappear within himself.

Not a plan that worked; Hyourinmarou rustled through his mind like the raindrops shimmering through the leaves above his head.

_A question to which you already know the answer, should you decide to finally accept it_. Red eyes burned in his mind's eye; Toushirou shook his head, wet strands of hair plastering themselves to his forehead, but the ice dragon drawled on. _Master, what are you doing here_?

_Hiding from you and everyone else I've failed_, instantly flashed through his mind, but he couldn't say that aloud, "I don't know." Shame burned Toushirou's cheeks, along with a million thoughts and feelings he just couldn't fucking sort out. "I just-, I'm-" he ground to a miserable halt, realizing that he had no idea what to say.

_Then it is time for_ me _to speak_.

Between one heartbeat and the next, the rain stopped.

Hyourinmarou's frustration rattling through his chest, Hitsugaya drew a sharp intake of breath at a sudden change in environment; blinking his vision clear, he looked around with widening eyes. The rainforest was gone; he was crouched in a twilit expanse, an enormous dome of sky above shrouded in hazy darkness, only the faintest hint of light glimmering on the horizon. All around him rippled swells of ashy ice, rolling off into the distance like a great, frozen sea. The smell of glaciers and smoke washed over him, resonating deeply within him, almost familiar, even though Toushirou knew this was somewhere he had never been before. It almost felt like the cold, wind-swept expanses of his internal world...but instead of that stark and empty wasteland, here and there, trapped in the warped folds of ground ice, were pockets of ash and dust. And in every pile, in any accumulation of size or substance, bloomed a tiny chrysanthemum blossom.

"Where am I?" Hitsugaya was instantly and instinctively on battle-readiness, hand curled around the hilt of his sword, and even though he knew that the ice-dragon had brought him here the air still crackled with a subtle danger. Above him, the transluscent figure of Hyourinmarou dipped and flowed along with his roiling thoughts.

_Somewhere to which you have never before been invited, a place known only to soul manifestations. In your language, it could be called the Common Ground,_ Hyourinmarou replied, hissing softly through the air_. You have your realms, in which you traverse. We have ours. In your worlds, paths and locations often coincide. The same is true here._

Hitsugaya's grip tightened, an uncomfortable uneasiness twisting through his stomach. _With whom does this place coincide_?

Hyournimarou swamped him with a stunning swell of anger; Hitsugaya could not remember his zanpaktou ever betraying such stark emotion and frustration. _Whom do you think_?

Hitsugaya stiffened, guilt seizing him as thoroughly as horror, but to no avail; no sooner did he grip as hard as possible on his reiatsu, a fruitless attempt to hide, than warm hands were brushing his shoulders. He twitched, violently, throwing off a touch he wished he could have embraced. "What are you doing here?" he snapped.

"Oh, gods Toshi - did you really think I wouldn't find you?" Rangiku cocked her head at him, curious and looking a mite annoyed herself. "You should know I would come to you wherever you were. Wherever this is..." She trailed off, mirroring a hint of his own confusion. "Heineko said that you needed me."

"Well, I _don't_," Hitsugaya snapped. "Just-, just leave me alone, would you?" He felt sick saying the words, but he was so damn _confused_...

Rangiku frowned but didn't say anything. In one smooth, graceful motion, she withdrew Heineko and tried to take his head off.

He got Hyourinmarou out and around just in time to block the blow. Barely. "Matsu- what the fuck!?" Again she said nothing; face set in stone, she made a valiant effort to stab through his left kidney. A quick block and solid parry had her blade glancing away. "What are you _doing_?!"

"Well," grunted Rangiku, a lightening-fast swipe disturbing the air around his eyebrows, "You won't _look_ at me," Parry; riposte. "You won't _talk_ to me." Her left shoulder dropped; he got his blade around to cover his right thigh just in time to avoid getting hamstrung. "And you're swearing like a sailor, so I know you're an emotional mess. Nothing left for it but to duel it out." Rangiku's beautiful face blanked unexpectedly, and it was only instinct and a hell of a lot of luck that saw him ducking away with both ears still attached. Pausing, her blue eyes bored into his. "Toushirou -_ trust me long enough to tell me what's wrong_."

A flare of anger rose up, obliterating the sickening feeling that he couldn't answer her truthfully. "I _do_ trust you." Nearly blind with warring emotions, he threw himself into offense; a flurry of volleys followed, but unlike their previous spars, this time Matsumoto was always inexplicably a hair's-breadth ahead of him, almost as if she had the edge on him... "What do you want from me, Matsumoto?" he grated, tossing a swipe at her that he knew she could block.

She did, almost contemptuously. "I want you to admit that you're angry with me," she growled, blue eyes crackling.

He grit his teeth. "I am _not_." Sword blades clanged. "I love you, you know that-"

"Toshi, you idiot!" An unexpected kido chant had him dancing out of the way of a bolt of lightening, though her next words left him feeling as if the demon-magic had hit dead-on. "You can love me and still be angry with me!"

Her words shocked him so deeply that he froze in place, long enough for her to very nearly run him through. "But..."

"But _nothing_," she snarled, swinging at him almost feverishly. "I didn't tell you I had a daughter." Clang. "I did't tell you that I bore the child of the one person who hate more than anyone else in the universe." The duel blades squealed in agony as they connected, again and again. "Because of _me_, we both very nearly got killed." Again, Hitsugaya's shock very nearly cost him an appendage, but Rangiku's face was screwed tight in self-recrimination and she barely noticed, hacking away viciously with hardly any forethought and a frightening amount of blind precision. "It's my damn fault we ended up in the Sphere in the first place!! _I_ betrayed your trust, _I_ abandoned my child, _I_ let down the very people I love most-"

Unnerved, he threw a quick crack to her wrist with the flat of his blade, sending Heineko flying. "What are you talking about?" Hitsguaya gasped, panting hard with exertion and shock. "_I've_ let _you_ down. I should have protected you-"

"_From what_?" Rangiku hollared, rubbing her sore wrist and her eyes bright with unshed tears and fury. "From someone you had no reason to know about?? From a device you didn't even know existed?!" Her voice took on a brittle edge and started to crack. "From a hateful revenge borne out of _my_ mistakes??"

_ENOUGH!_

The crackling roar nearly split both their heads open as an ice-cold breeze swept around them, thick with ash, swirling with unnatural speed and rapidly obscuring the horizon. Lightening crackled as the smoke and ash surrounded them, engulfing them in a mass of roiling clouds and bone-chilling air; in moments they were inside the eye of a huricane, moving in slow motion around them, trapping them. Instinctively, Hitsugaya took a step closer to Matsumoto, felt her falling into a defensive position behind him, back-to-back, guarding each other. It was as natural as breathing, even though it was clear as day it was their own zanpaktous causing the melee of disturbance around them. Out of the maelstrom, eyes tracked them - red and quicksilver, both sparkling with perception and a decided lack of patience. Hyourinmarou spoke first.

_Your hearts are in chaos_. Hitsguaya's blood chilled in his veins at the angry resonance in his dragon's normally-patient tone.

_But that's not the worst_. Heineko managed to sound put-off as well as deadly serious.

Hyorunimarou seethed with frustration. _You are turning from each other when you need each other the most_.

Heineko sniffed. _You are turning from_ us_, ingoring us_. _Ignoring your deepest selves..._

_Believing lies_. Hyourinmarou's eyes burned holes in them both, and Hitsugaya could feel the back of his throat dry out. Hyourinmarou was not yet finished with them, roaring on. _You have both been through a great trial, and as a result you are confused, choosing to belive the lies of your pain and your false guilt instead of remembering the truth._

_"What_ truth?" Hitsugaya grated; behind him, he could feel Matsumoto's stiff stance, every muscle taut.

_You are not a failure_, rumbled Hyournimarou. Hitsugaya felt his face instantly flush, his tongue sticking to the roof of his mouth as his soul slayer slashed him with merciless truth._ You cannot expect of yourself the impossible. It is not right to punish yourself for what happened inside the Sphere. If it were not for you, none of us would have escaped alive. You did not fail Matsumoto, you did not fail Heineko and you did not fail Me_.

_And you_, Heineko piped in, glaring at Matsumoto, _could not have prevented our daughter's actions by mentioning her existence earlier. We did not even know if she was still alive, Mistress_. Matsumoto jerked; Heineko rarely ever addressed her formally, and there was a gut-wrenching empathy in the hellcat's tone. _We looked and looked and did not find her. It never occurred to us that Gin might have found her first and hid her from us. And it certainly never occurred to us that he would twist her the way he did, raising her against us and instilling in her this desperate need for revenge_.

Fingers wound themselves into his hand, and Hitsugaya automatically gripped them, reassuringly. His emotions were in a whirl, but for some reason his thoughts were starting to clear, his resolve starting to settle back into its familiar singularity, confidence slowly warming him like Rangiku's hand in his warmed his flesh. _She didn't know...And I couldn't have_...as he began to entertain the possibility that neither of them could have done any better than they had, Hyourinmarou rattled an approving chuckle.

_Look at us,_ insisted Heineko from somewhere in the heart of the maelstrom. _We have brought you here, to this place, to show you that your zanpaktous, your soul reflections, are _not _in chaos. We are together, joined, in perfect synchronization with each other_. Eyes black as death, glittering silver centers, held them both captive as Hyourinmarou wove gracefully in and out of the swirls and eddies of Heineko's hurricane. _Between us, there is no discord. No conflict. With us, there is only truth_.

_Fighting each other, withdrawing from each other, is to turn against your very souls,_ Hyourinmarou rumbled in counterpoint. _By denying the truth about your circumstances, about yourselves, you are diving into chaos. Embrace the truth, and there will be nothing left to fear. _With a final, simultaneous rumble, the maelstrom slowly began to dissipate; the air warmed and became heavy with moisture as the Common Ground dissolved around them...

_Think on this, and cease punishing yourselves._ It was impossible to separate the two voices; the zanpaktous spoke as one_. Only then will you find peace, and the wisdom to face what is to come._

Between one breath and the next, Hitsugaya and Matsumoto were standing alone again the the rain-soaked glen on top of the mountain, surrounded only by rain and the tropical forest thick with mist.

A long time passed while they digested the words of their soul slayers. The air lay heavy around them, the slow dripping of water among the leaves the only sound accompanying their thoughts as they slowly wrestled with the truth...

Finally, as one, they turned and looked at each other.

A thrill of electricity shot through Rangiku as she saw, finally, the truth in Toshirou's eyes. Whether it had been real or she'd only imagined it, there was no more shadow of disappointment in them, only that ocean-mist color gleaming with resolve and glowing with the same love that threatened to split her chest open. Hitsugaya himself nearly broke down at the love and pride he found in her eyes, no longer haunted by the specter of his own guilt and shame. Every single part of him wanted to apologize for losing faith in himself, for punishing them both...but words failed him and so he simply kissed her.

She melted into him like the rain on his skin, fragrant and warm. Slowly, he claimed her mouth with his, breathing in tandem, gazes locked and hooded. His hands couldn't seem to stop touching her, caressing her, his fingers digging into the intoxicating mix of firm flesh and soft skin; her thin summer dress had plastered itself to her in the rain, and as he reached up to brush the wet bangs off her forehead, she sighed.

Lips still touching, feather-light, he breathed into her. "Can you ever forgive me?"

She inhaled, pausing between breaths, blue eyes piercing. "Can you forgive me?" Her hands twined together at the nape of his neck, pupils dialated...her heart riding on the answer...

"There is nothing to forgive," he whispered, and then his hand was in her hair and he was pulling her into a relentless kiss and her fingers were digging into his shoulders. Clutching, almost desperate, he tore the wet fabric away from her body like it was nothing at all, barely noticing how feverishly she ripped off his own human attire. Shrouded in the clouds, the only two souls for miles, their pulses raced together as they frantically claimed every inch of each other.

Clothed only in the rain, they came together in mist and magic, and for the first time in a long time, nothing else mattered.

* * *

They lost track of how long they stayed on the mountain. It might have been hours or days before they collapsed, panting, drifting effortlessly into sleep, a wet and tangled array of limbs and flushed skin. At some point, the precipitation became a nuisance, but not for long; there was more than enough moisture in the air, not that Toushirou needed it in the first place. No one else braved the soggy mountain, so there was no one to stumble across the crytalline enclosure that shrouded them, doming off the rain and cocooning them pleasantly in their own little hideaway. The mossy ground made for ample beddding, and seeing as they had no desire to separate for more than moments at a time, it was all they needed. Long, langorous mornings disappeared into frantic, feverish afternoons, the sun occasionally glittering off the ice dome around them and setting off the light into tiny rainbows dancing across their skin. Once or twice the fractals made her sad, but he always noticed and if tears came, he was always there to kiss them away. It was a magical interval without words, only silent conversation broken by the frequent sounds of ecstasy as they drank deeply of each other. Too long without, they indulged and played until finally they lay spent, sated.

The moonshine glanced fractally around them as, finally, the time for speaking caught up with them. Sprawled along his lean frame, Toushirou could feel her reaching for words as he held her, watching the soft light of evening glowing around them.

"When do we need to go back, do you think?" It was a low murmur, barely perceptible, but as he'd been thinking along the same lines he didn't need the words to be audible.

"Hm," he grunted, quietly. "When we're ready, I would imagine." Softly, he kissed her hair.

He could tell she understood his meaning. Nuzzling closer, she made a tiny sound almost like a purr. "Yes." A long time passed before she moved against him, a weight steeling over her. "Leiko." He waited, this time unafraid; this time, he knew the answer. "What are we going to do?"

"We're going to love her. Relentlessly." Hitsugaya stroked her back, willing the concern out of her. "She won't be able to hate forever."

Rangiku stirred, contemplative. "Do you think loving her will be enough?" It was more inquisitive than pained, vulnerable.

He turned her head to look at him, to show her the earnesty in his eyes. "I have yet to meet the soul you cannot out-love." A small, affectionate smile quirked his lips. "It will be enough."

She smiled back, faintly, before her face grew serious. "Toushirou, there is one more thing I have to tell you. Something about Gin, and Leiko - something I don't think even _she_ knows..."

As her quiet murmuring filled the cocoon, Toushirou's pale eyesbrows slowly crawled up his forehead. For a long time after she finished speaking, his thoughts continued to race... "Rangiku - it's a technicality, but that might just be enough for us to get her out of the mess she's in."

"I know," she replied, cautiously. "That's why I told you. Of course," her voice dropped, a tendril of concern lacing back through her tone. "That's only assuming Yamamoto and the others are willing to go along with this..."

"And assuming Leiko agrees to go along with it, too." His features settled into grim contemplation, and after a moment and a quick chant, a hell-butterfly appeared. "This is Hitsugaya-taicho, reporting from the Real World with an urgent message for Shuuhei-taicho."

"I'm sorry, sir, Shuuhei-taicho is unavailable..." The communication technician on the other end of the butterfly sounded decidedly nervous. "Uhm...can I take a message?"

"Don't be ridiculous," Rangiku growled. "This is Matsumoto-taicho, and it's urgent. Send him a butterfly immediately."

"I'm really, really sorry..." The poor girl was started to stutter. "He's..._really_ not available." There was a long, staticy pause. "We, uhm...c-can't get a butterfly to him right now..."

Toushirou and Rangiku exchanged a quick, urgent look. "Why not?" Hitsugaya growled, the hairs on the back of his neck starting to stand on end. "Where are they?"

When they finally got the technician to tell them, it took all of Hitsugaya's strength and Hyourinmarou's besides to keep Matsumoto from going completely beserk.


	26. Darkest Night Before Dawn

_"Will you shut that shit off!?"_

Even as she said the words, Leiko knew they would do no good, and for the umpteenth time in the last month, settled herself down to an evening of intense stewing and insufferable, ear-shattering noise.

True to form, no answer came from the other side of the room, from the dark-haired and infuriatingly good-looking captain lounging on his futon, eyes closed and deeply immersed in the crap he called music.

Glaring impotently, Leiko threw him a throughly-ignored glower fit to skin the flesh from his bones, flipped over and, burying her head under the pillow in a fruitless attempt to get some damn sleep, fought back tears of frustration as the last several weeks of exquisite torture flitted through her memory...

* * *

Sauntering happily past the stoic captain half-obscuring the doorway, Leiko streched luxuriously and made sure the motion would be impossible to ignore for any member of the male gender. "So," she purred, "What are we gonna do first? Do I get a tour or something?" A bath was high on her list, but she would save mention for it in case she needed to mess with his head later.

Undaunted, and somehow managing to act is if he hadn't even noticed her appealing contortions, Shuuhei strode past her down the hallway, glanced back over his shoulder. "We are going to my office."

"Oooh, what are we going to do there? Shinigami stuff?" She traipsed after him, trying not to finger the obnoxious piece of proprietory fabric at her neck. "Do I get to watch you be all captiney and order people around? Or you could kill a Hollow and be dashing. " A dark thread of derision wound its way into her expression. "Maybe we'll just sit around and ignore the plights of all the dying people right outside Sereitei. Important shinigami stuff like that, right?" Hisagi just kept walking in that stoic and rythmic stride that ate ground; rolling her eyes, Leiko followed him.

It was a thoroughly uneventful and annoying journey, puctuated by a few hairy moments while she tried to figure out where the hell to walk. At first she toddled behind him, until she realized that not only did it make her look submissive, it also presented her with a rear-end view of her captain-cum-babysitter that was irksomely taut and well-shaped. How he managed to look chiseled under all those robes she couldn't figure out, but in any case it was unacceptable data input. So Leiko exuded a loud huff and quickened her pace until she was strolling in front of him, making a fair sway of her hips in retaliation. That only lasted for so long, seeing as she had no idea where they were going and every time Hisagi reached out to correct her direction, his fingers made her skin tingle in a way that was galling. So finally, she settled into a spot at his left arm, a pace away and just slightly behind him so she could watch him out of the corner of her eye and follow him in such a way as to make it appear that she wasn't even with him, their paths just happened to leading them in the same direction.

Arriving at the Squad grounds was just way too much fun, and snorting loudly at every squad member that bowed in reverence to their leader made it easier to ignore that all the curt displays of respect made the dark statue walking beside her more and more sexy. That Hisagi nodded in acknolwedgement of every single genuflection, accompanying the return with a murmer of each subordinate's name and often a quick, personal inquiry only made him more attractive, until Leiko very nearly wanted to hit him on the back of the head just to see what his squad would do in response. All this respect and man-grunting was driving her crazy.

_Damnit, I need a way to nullify this whole dark-brooding-commander thing he's got going_...Leiko settled for sticking her tongue out at his back, and was rewarded with a gasp or two of horror from nearby subordinates. Hisagi didn't seem to notice, but it was enough curl her plump lips a hair and lighten her mood a bit.

Striding into the Ninth squad administration offices, Hisagi nodded as a slender man rose at their entrance.

"Captain-" The pale-haired man looked nervous, clutching a stack of papers to his chest. He seemed like the twitchy type, the kind that rather isntantly inspired dislike Leiko and the familiar desire to make trouble curled Leiko's lips unpleasantly. She had a feeling it would be ridiculously easy to make him cry, and seeing as that would probably annoy Shuuhei, she could hardly wait to get started.

"At ease, Lieutenant," Hisagi murmured, speaking first and sparing his vice a suprising and soothing grin. "Nanao been after you about last week's reports again?"

The youth supressed a shudder and brushed long, blonde bangs out of his eyes. "Er, uhm...yeah." Blue eyes flittered in Leiko's direction. "Captain, are you sure...?" He drifted off, staring at her in a way that made her like him even less, assuming that was possible. The intensity of his gaze made her skin crawl.

"It's fine," Shuuhei said softly; another moment of the awkward staring contest continued before the captain raised his voice. "Kira." Haunted, blue eyes snapped back to the dark-haired captain, but instead of scolding his lieutenant for being absent-minded, Hisagi's face softened. "It's okay."

"Hey, Fuck-Face," Lieko snarled. "I'm right here. How about we stop talking about me like I'm a potted plant?"

The pale Lieutenant's eyes nearly bulged at her nickname. "Captain-!"

"That's Captain Fuck-Face to you," she snapped; something about that boy was just repulsive to her. As he spluttered in affront, Leiko couldn't help grinning at him, a hundred acerbic niggles at the ready to egg him onto the nervous breakdown he seemed to be perennially on the verge of having, but an iron-clad grip around her arm forstalled any further tweaking.

"That's quite enough." Yanking her more forcefully than was strictly necessary, Shuuhei whipped Leiko around into the adjacent room, tossing an order over his shoulder. "Why don't you see to the training sessions, Izuru-fukutaicho. I'll be ready to finish up those reports for you as soon as you return." Without waiting for an acknowledgement, Hisagi pulled the screen closed behind him and rounded on her.

For some unfathomable reason, Leiko actually found herself gulping and taking a step back as those black eyes pinned her to the wall with an intensity that seethed with a quiet, dangerous threat. A long silence protracted, that obsidian glare killing every snide comment before it could make its way to her lips. She was all but sweating before Hisagi's quiet baritone drifted through the room.

"I would appreciate it if you did not disrespect my lieutenant." Lieko blinked; going by the look on his face, she'd been expecting a full ass-reaming. Taking advantage of her surprise, Shuuhei's face softened from granite into...well, something softer, but still petrescent. "I apologize for his reaction, and for the lack of introductions. I warned him about you, but failed to offer you the same courtesy."

"What the fuck is wrong with him?" she sneered, albeit without some of her earlier heat. "Hasn't he ever seen a girl before? Is he gay or something?" An idea occured to her, and she smirked at Hisagi. "Or is he _yours_? You dipping your quill in the company ink?"

Those thin lips quirked into what Leiko could only assume was possibly the closest thing to a smile the man ever managed, even though the warning in his eyes remained. "Just be nice to him, okay? He's been through quite a lot over the years."

Leiko looked Shuuhei up and down and regarded him for a long moment. _Nah, he's got to be het; doesn't have the vibe_. The assessment made her feel rather relieved, for what reason she couldn't possibly fathom. Glancing up into the chiseled face, she got the distinct impression that he'd been reading her thoughts right up to and including her conclusion of his orientation. Feeling transparent and oddly chagrined, Leiko covered it with a huff. "So he's a charity case?"

"Hardly." Hisagi turned, finally, rescuing her from that damnable way he looked at her. "Kira is a damn fine lieutenant, and a good friend to boot." He glanced direction out of the corner of his eyes as he settled himself at the sprawling, cherrywood desk along the far wall. "Give him a chance; you might find you have one or two things in common with him." Leaving that enigmatic comment dangling in the air, he picked up a quill and dipped it into the inkwell. Soft scritching filled the silence moments later.

"Fine," Leiko muttered, although she was pretty sure there could be no common ground between her and a shinigami with a nervous twitch. "So, what are we going to do now?"

"I am going to do paperwork," Shuuhei replied calmly without taking his eyes off the desk. "You may do what you like, provided you do not leave the room."

Glaring, she glanced around the austere quarters. Though it was exquisitely designed in deep redwoods with black and gold accents, it was still sparse and decidedly masculine. The room itself boasted little more than the stolid desk, a wall of deep shelves covered in books and scrolls, a sword stand holding aloft a single, exquisite katana, and a soft-looking couch along the single window. _Well, this should be a whole hell of a lot of fun_... Watching Shuuhei long enough to realize that he hadn't been joking and had no intention of doing anything other than his dull office work, Leiko wandered around the books for a while before sauntering over towards the couch. Along the way, she eyeballed the sword for a long moment but wasn't stupid enough to make a lunge for it; from what she understood, shinigami were joined with their swords and she didn't hold any illusions about turning a zanpaktou on its owner. Still, as the afternoon ticked glacially on, she got bored.

"Are you done yet?" she grumbled, fidgiting. The couch wasn't nearly as soft and comfy as it looked. When he didn't answer, she pouted. A few more eternities passed.

Finally, "I have to go to the bathroom."

The pen scritching stopped. "I'll show you where it is." Quiet rustling as he rose from his desk.

She flipped over, staring at him. "Are you serious?"

He tapped the black collar at his neck before gesturing at her own. "You're to stay in my presence at all times, remember? I'll take you myself."

She launched herself to her feet, bristling. "I can find it on my own!"

"I'm sure you can," he murmured, indominable. "I will take you nonetheless. A deal is a deal, and the conditions were clear." He waited patiently while she vibrated with affront and refused to budge. "I can take you back to the Tower anytime you like-"

"Fine, Fuck-Face. Whatever." Pivoting on her heel, she strode for the door and slammed it open.

As he joined her, he stopped at the door and cocked his head at her. "Why do you call me that?"

In answer, Leiko flicked his right cheekbone with a smirk and was gleeful as his eyes widened in a gratifying amount of shock.

"That's not what it means-!" He actually spluttered.

"Then what does it mean?" Her eyes glinted evilly while Shuuhei made a good show of wrestling with his own tongue. With a laugh, Leiko traipsed for the hallway, delighted with having found a way to niggle him and feeling like she got a bit of her own back. "Take me to the bathroom like a good little hall monitor, Fuck-Face. I'm a girl and we can't hold it like you boys can."

Her small victory did not last long. Being escorted to the restroom like an imbolent schoolgirl was ten kinds of humiliating, but it didn't end there. Hisagi held the door open for her and, in a stunning display of impropriety, followed her in.

All Leiko could do was gape. "You have GOT to be kidding me."

"In my presence, at all times," he roboted. "I won't watch, if that's what you're worried about-"

"I'm not worried," she spat. "I'm _disgusted_! You can't seriously expect me to actually take a piss with you in the room!"

To her satisfaction, Hisagi flushed just a bit. "I understand, but I cannot leave the room. I will grant you all the privacy possible..."

She slapped him. Hard. And then glared at him for a while. And then she waited until he was carefully situated facing the corner before doing her business as noisily and disgusting as possible.

And gods if it hadn't gotten worse from there.

She could not get rid of him. _Ever_. Every single moment, waking or asleep, eating bathing or otherwise...

_He was there_.

They ate at the same table. During the day - when he wasn't following her to the bathroom, gods damnitall - Leiko languished in his office while Hisagi did endless hours of paperwork and held mind-numbingly boring meetings with various squad members and that nervous lieutenant of his that couldn't stop looking at her like she was a live Hollow or a walking ghost with fangs. The occasional captains meeting piqued her interest at first, until her sharp ears revealed that they were decidedly not discussing anything that could possibly be of interest to her. In the evenings, they retired to Shuuhei's personal quarters where she was forced to eat a meal in silence, sit around in his personal den for hours watching him read (_poetry_ of all damn things), and then wrapped up her exciting day with a hot bath. With Hisagi sitting in the corner of the bathing room staring blandly at the wall, of course. And then, yes, sleeping pallets in the same damn room. He even shielded the bedroom with some kind of kido that made it impossible for her to open the door.

To call it infuriating was only the tip of the iceberg. Leiko's original plan had been to use her leverage with the commoners to gain herself some kind of emmisary status, spending the three months in Sereitei learning all she could about how it ran in order to make the most beneficial possible changes. It had honestly never occurred to her that the Gotei would not take her seriously, would treat her in this dismissive and degrading manner, sticking her with this dark-haired block of wood in a move that made no sense at all. Now Leiko was stuck in Sereitei, but instead of gaining intelligence to further her plans, she was stuck in the constant presence of an silent statue who seemed intent on destroying her sanity with little more than his constant presence.

And damn it all if it wasn't _working_!

Leiko was learning things alright, but they were the _last_ things in the world she wanted to learn. She learned that Hisagi snored, but only when he slept on his right side. She learned that he was an early riser. She learned that he preferred black tea to green, oversteeped and hot enough to scald his tongue. She learned that he was a damn good cook, which infuriated her. She learned that a hell of a lot of captaining was hours of paperwork and meetings, that Hisagi kept his office immaculate and his bedroom messy, and despite her initial assessment doubted on many an occasion his sexual orientation, vociferously and within both his earshot and Kira's, the latter of which would blush to his roots and rush out of the room.

And that was only one of the ways in which Leiko got some of her own in. After the initial shock wore off, she found endless, grim pleasure in making sure Hisagi regretted every possible moment of chaperone. She ate the most offensive possible foods for a week before he figured out that if he only supplied her with blander fare, then he could make it through a trip to the resty without having to hold his breath for the stench. Thus curtailed, she spent a day and a half drinking enough water to drown a camel so that he coulnd't get through a single hour of paperwork without having to escort her to relive herself. In the silence of his office or during anything resembling a meeting, her throat suddenly wanted loud and thorough clearing every eleven seconds. Once he caught on to that one, it was time to bring out the big guns, and not a single bath went unprefaced by a strip show that was as scandalous as it was thoroughly ignored, even though Leiko eventually granted herself that his posture got noticibly stiffer once he realized what she was doing. Still, though his eyes stayed plastered to the wall, she slipped enough maneuvers into Shuuhei's peripheral view as to make him very nearly fidgit on more than one occasion.

That one back-fired; the constant-presence thing worked both ways, and she found herself forcing her own gaze to the screens when he stopped with his previously-demure ablutions and starting bathing in full view. _Damn the man, why did he have to be so perfectly _cut_??_

At first Leiko thought he was a pervert for the endless supervision. Then she thought he was just an idiot for not taking further advantage of the situation and at least making a move on her. She definitely wondered if it hadn't been better just to sit in her tower and wait for them to kill her, but some point of pride or - dare she admit it? - curiosity refused to let her walk away from whatever weirdness she was subjected to and take up his offer to return her to her cell. She was damned if she was going to condede anything to this Hisagi Shuuhei, no matter how much he drove her crazy!

Finally, after weeks of torment, she decided he was completely off his rocker and did his best to ignore him completely.

That was when the music started.

* * *

_If you could even_ call _it that,_ Leiko hissed to herself, covering her ears and wondering if this was Hisagi's trump card for torturing her. A whole week of this braying, squealing, thumping crap - that he called rock and roll and she called the death cry of an agonized chimpanzee - and she was ready to draw that sword of his and run him the hell through.

It had started almost a week ago, when she had just gotten the knack of tuning out his very presence; dinner would scarecely be finished before he would turn on something called a stereo system and out would come the blaring cacophany. Nothing she did mattered, as he shielded the machine with some kind of demon magic that prevented her from touching it or breaking it to pieces, and if she complained he just turned it up higher.

Worse than that, though, was that while the godsforbidden racket thundered on, he would completely and utterly ignore her.

It was shocking how deeply that affected her. Weeks of unrelenting attention from him, hated as it had been, left her feeling unaccountably lonely when he lost himself in the music the way he did. Humming along, he would put away all the dinner items and clean up before retreating to the bedroom, dragging her along as had become their custom, and throwing his lean frame onto his pallet after a quick chant secured the door. Closing his eyes, he devoted himself entirely to the thrumming with little more than an occasional toe moving in time to the music or lips twitching along with nearly unintelligible lyrics.

While Leiko impotently glared from the corner, Shuuhei would listen half the night, ruining any hopes she had of getting any decent amount of sleep. Nearly a week had her run down and haggard, no less because he listened to the same damn songs every night and despite her every resistance, the odd sounds and repetetive lyrics were starting to resonate with her. There was something in the ragged, growling sounds that started to make the empty spot in the pit of her chest ache; exhausted, frustrated and achingly lonely, she couldn't help but start to feel things, things she'd buried years ago...

The way it felt when her father came to visit her. The way it felt when he left.

_The way it felt when she found out he'd died at her mother's hands, and Leiko realized she was totally, utterly alone in the afterworld_.

_Who's got my back now?_

_When all we have left is this empty_

_soul, disconnected,_

_What is the truth now?_

"_Will you shut that shit off!?"_

Her screech, accompanied by the pillow that hurtled into his face, cracked an obsidian eye open. "What?"

"Shut it off! Just fucking shut it _off_, would you?" Leiko was panting wildly, and so damn tired she hardly cared at how manic she sounded. And, although she hated herself for it, she was almost weak with relief that he was actually talking to her. "I know what you're trying to do, okay? The endless proximity, the watching me every single second...and now with the damn music till all hours of the night!!" Was that strident voice really hers? "You're trying to wear me down. You're - you're making me so tired and angry and confused that I'll lose my focus and cave in aren't you?" _You're making me feel things, and start to care about them...you're making me miss the way you look at me_... His black eyes bored into her as she clamped her jaw tight to keep the words in her head from escaping. Something close to hysteria burned through her gut. "It's not going to work! I'm not going to forget why I'm here!! How can I??" Her voice turned ugly. "You expect me to forget all the people suffering out there, all the lost souls you could care nothing less for? You think you're going to wear me down with this pathetic attempt at torture?? I know what suffering is, you privelidged asshole - I've been through hell you can't begin to imagine..!!"

"_I can't imagine?"_ Suddenly Hisagi was right in front of her, the look on his face chilling the air in her lungs. "_I_ can't begin to imagine what you've been through?" Leiko felt her blood go cold at the stark fury in his voice. "I don't know what it's like to fight for my life in Rukongai, every day wondering if I'd live to see the next? To find someone to believe in, someone who promised to raise you out of that half-life and give you hope that the world could be better?" Shuuhei's iron-strong fingers dug into her skin as he gripped her arm; when Leiko realized that his hand was trembling, it terrified her. "You think I don't know what it's like to lose the man you've idolized, sacrificed everything for, _worshipped_!? To watch every dream of peace and security crumble before your eyes? Leiko - _do you honestly think you're the only person who knows what hell is??"_ He was roaring now, in her face, as she stared at him stupified. Leiko's brain numbed at the realization that only an honest admission could make a man such as this lose control.

Yanking her to her feet, Shuuhei pulled her close and, even with the reiatsu-dampening collar on, Leiko could feel her skin tingling as he gathered reiatsu.

"_You_ are the one who cannot begin to imagine what hell is like," he growled, the darkest sound she'd ever heard him make, and with a gut-wrenching sensation Leiko felt the world twisting around them. "Ichimaru Leiko, I'm going to show you how wrong you are."

And with a hot wind reeking of sulphur and a thunderous clap, they _stepped_...

* * *

It was dark. So dark it hurt. There was air, burning her skin with a cold so intense it seared, but Leiko could feel no sensation of drawing it into her lungs. Gravity seemed to be multiplied a thousand times stronger, pulling at her limbs, a strange and intoxicating lethargy seeping into her body. Feeling half asleep and moving in slow-motion, as if underwater, Leiko took an eternity to turn her head and look, with large and haunted eyes, at the only other person visible in the absolutely lifeless wasteland around them.

"Shuuhei," she muttered thickly, a deep and abiding terror steeling over her. "Where are we?"

His eyes glittered as black as the sky above them, something inhuman shadowing his face.

"_This_ is Hell."


	27. Paved with Good Intentions

Ichimaru Leiko was the farthest thing possible from a coward, but nothing in her life had prepared her for the sheer, primal terror that froze her limbs at the mind-numbing blackness that surrounded them. The kind of fear one only feels in nightmares, it tore at her credulity; unable to think straight, unable to do anything sane, she slipped into desperate denial.

"No." A slow, hard gulp past the pained lump in her throat. "It's impossible." _Why is it so damn hard to breathe?_ "This can't be...?"

"Can't it?" Thick, muscular hands were still digging into her arms, as if Shuuhei was afraid she was going to disappear if he loosened his grip on her. An eyebrow twitched in black irony, his voice grating. "Not what you expected? Were you thinking flames and souls in frying pans? Devils with horns and pitchforks dancing around?"

The inky blackness pressed in around them, so complete that only a small swath of barren ground was visible at their feet. There was just..._nothing_, everywhere, so pervasive it plucked at Leiko's lucidity.

"Or maybe you thought, like so many humans, it was just a place for sinners to meet their friends in one, endless orgiastic party? You're so damned naiive." Shuuhei's grip trembled as he shook her, hard. "Life can be bad, terrible even, but it is never Hell. Hell is where _everything_ goes to die."

Ruthlessly, Hisagi whirled Leiko around, forcing her to look into the emptiness. "Hell is pure, endless nothing. No light, no life. No choice, or change, or hope. Just you and the _nothing_, forever." A ragged edge tore at his voice, and the broad chest against which her back was pressed started heaving. "Just _you_, alone with your thoughts, your weaknesses, your failures. No hope for redemtion, or rescue."

Leiko felt cold, so cold she was beyond trembling, the weight of this place trying to drag her into the black...

"You think you've suffered?" Hisagi's hoarse whisper burned in her ear. "You think you know what alone is? No matter what you've been through, you always had the choice to fight, to survive if nothing else. Here, you don't even have that. Not even losing your mind brings relief. The souls in here go on existing forever - just that, just _existing_, nothing else.

_This_ is Hell _-_ the end of everything."

Dragging up a seed of stubborness from the very edges of her frayed soul, Leiko shook her head, speaking thicky. "There's other souls here - you just said there were. Millions even. Not alone-"

"You'll never find another soul. Not ever. That would be _something_, relief from the loneliness at the very least, and in Hell _there is no relief_. Only endless nothing, endless hopelessness. There is no possibility of _anything_ here, don't you feel it?" His grip on her loosened a hair, and for the life of her Leiko felt the darkness pressing in closer. "Hell - _true_ Hell - is this eternal wasteland utterly devoid of possibilities." Tension vibrated along the tall frame behind her, as for long moments Hisagi struggled to pull himself back together. When he spoke again, there was a modicum of control, of easement, in the tone. "You see, there are worse places to be than Rukongai..."

That quickly, fury rose up in her, suffusing her limbs with sudden heat, and for a split-second Leiko felt the cold lethargy pulling at her vanish. It made her feel invincible. "_That's_ why you brought me here - to make a fucking point??" Her incensed hollar rang around them, halting at the darkness as if it ran into a wet blanket and stayed there. She barely noticed; galvanized, she started flailing at the iron grip holding her.

"Stop-" Sudden unease gripped Hisagi's demeanor as he fought to keep hold of her, but Leiko was having none of it. _Hell hath no fury_... Leiko ruthlessly concentrated on breaking free. Decades of survival in Rukongai made the struggle between them near-matched, but Hisagi had not grown up as an attractive female nor the object of many a lurid, perverted lust and Leiko had had more than sufficient experience breaking strong holds. With a nible twist she learned during an assault that didn't bear remembering, she slipped Hisagi's grip and, with all the fury and betrayal burning in her gut, planted a massive shove into his rock-hard chest.

"Go to hell!!" Leiko screamed, and turning, she ran...

She had one quick glimpse of shock-laced panic flashing across his tatooed visage before the darkness swallowed Shuuhei up.

The pitch-black silence was instantaneous. So was absolute solitude; turning and turning, she could get no bearing, so sense of space or distance or orientation. Half-panicked herself and blind with rage - though she couldn't tell if it was fury at Shuuhei for bringing her here, or at herself for running away - Leiko forced her feet to move, forced arms to pump...

_Nothing_. If she was moving, she had no sense of it, no way to feel if her lungs drew air, no way to know if she was in motion or standing still. The sensory depirvation was complete. For a while she struggled. For an age she tried to find her way back..._you'll never find another soul here, not ever_... And then, as the emptiness and darkness and silence slowly started to erode her sanity, she screamed and screamed and screamed and made no sound...

_Come back come back come back oh gods come back don't leave me alone here don't leave me alone don't leave don't leave don't leave me_...

Silence. Black. Nothing.

In desperate throes, her mind struggled for sanity. Images bombarded her. Alleys. Shantys. Faces without names. The occasional whisp of a half-remembered emotion that she would have sold her soul to grasp. Threads of memory that arose just enough to keep her from losing all sense of being, just enough to keep her from drifting into the release of oblivion. Palest lavender hair and eyes that should have been red but just gaped black, empty sockets. A sense of being alone, so terribly alone...of being left behind..._don't leave me don't leave me don't leave me!!..._red hair and smiling blue eyes and a laugh she could see but not hear...a name...she had a name once, didn't she?..._wasn't there a me that was me, once upon a time before this black, black place..?..._Endless, countless drifting.

Eons passed as she was consumed inside and out by the weighty nothing dragging her soul away. The silence was so deafening it hurt, and after a while she could swear the agonized cries of millions of souls was just on the edge of hearing..._He was wrong he was wrong there are other souls here I can hear them hear their keening like wolves...they're all around me and they're coming for me...the beasts of hell are coming_...

When hands touched her shoulder, she nearly screamed at the shock of _something happening_.

"_Gotcha_." The terrified relief, the grating sound of speech assaulted her. Her ears didn't remember how to process noise, and it hurt. "_Gods almighty, I've got you_..."

Lost for so long in her catatonia, she could barely process the sight of Hisagi hovering over her, grabbing onto her like his life depended on it. The howling and wailing around her sounded clearer, as if she wasn't imagining it and wolves were baying a blood-thirsty hunting song all around them. Somehow, she dredged up a fragile memory of how to speak. "Wolves..." she muttered thickly past frozen lips. "They're coming..."

"I know." Wrapping her in an embrace so tight it would have suffocated her had she remembered how to breath, Hisagi's black eyes burned as he delved within himself, reaching for every shred of his power. "Hold on, this is going to be close..." He drew breath.

_"Hashire, Monosugoi Kurookami!"_ The release cry was followed by Hisagi's low, urgent chanting, and the keening around them rose and rose and rose until it would have split her in two had she not had Shuuhei's death-grip to steady her. Just as the howling became unbearable, deathsong of a thousand hellhounds screaming in rage, the world ripped and tore and heaved, and she passed out cold.

* * *

Warm.

Warmth was the first thing she noticed. Warmth, and then movement. Not her own movement; someone else's, and the rush of knowing she wasn't alone nearly sickened her with joy.

"Shhh," a soothing voice whispered, a voice she recognized, a voice she could have just laid there and listened to for an eternity. "Just rest; I've got you." A low murmur, a quick chant, and with a flare of light the warmth spread more quickly. "Easy now...I've got you..."

For a long time she was content with that; tightly held and gently rocked, Leiko - _that's it, that's my name; Leiko. How could I have forgotten...?_ - just drifted, eyes half-closed and drunk on sensation. Eventually she started to regain some coherence, and with the encouraging litany coaxing her back to reality, she started to take in her surroundings.

It was dark, which frightened her at first, but it was just the dark of ordinary night. Stars sparkled soothingly in the velvet sky above her, and the cool night air didn't freeze her. The play of light across her face explained the heat, although the large, crackling fire before her was only half the reason she was slowly regaining warmth and strength in her limbs. Strong arms were wrapped around her, willing her to warm up, and had she had the energy she would have burrowed deeper into the strong, muscular body pressed tightly to hers. She didn't have to look to see who it was, and his presence comforted her, so she took in the rest of the glade around them. The trees pressed in close like a dark, leafy cocoon, the stars twinkling through their boughs, and a gentle breeze set thin clouds drifting lazily across the moon. Eventually, she summoned the bearing to speak.

"You found me." Her garnet eyes tracked up to Hisagi's face, meeting his gaze. The relief that flooded his obsidian eyes made her weak in the knees, and pulling her closer Shuuhei pressed his foreheads to hers.

"Gods, you terrified me like I've never felt before." That indominable voice wavered, unsteady; Leiko warmed at the wonder of such emotion coming from this stoic man. He shuddered. "Whatever posessed you to run away..._gods_, didn't I impress on you never to leave my presence? Do you have any idea-?" He broke off, unable to continue, and as he pulled her closer Leiko found herself swallowing, the rest of the question burning unspoken in his eyes. _Do you have any idea the power it takes to find someone in the one place where accomplishment of any kind is impossible? "_I never should have brought you there..."

Leiko reached up, tentatively, to brush away the self-recrimination etching his features. At her touch, he shuddered again, the coldness in his face melting just a bit. "But you _did_ find me." A tiny frown of puzzlement. "How...? If it's impossible then, how?"

Just as tentatively, Hisagi grazed the collar around her neck; for some reason, his touch lingered there. It felt delicious. "I told you, it would help me track you. I never expected to have to use it _there_, but it probably saved your life."

That answered half her question. "But you said there was no hope, no escape from-" Her voice hitched; shuddering, she caught her breath. "How did we get out?"

Black eyes steadied her as he drew her gaze back to the present. "Kurookami," he said softly, the name tingling across her skin, and he nodded minutely towards the other side of the glen. Leiko followed the gesture, her breath catching in her throat as a large figure seemed to be watching from the shadows. Black as night, its massive shape obscured by the darkness around it, she nevertheless felt the weight of black eyes and intense acuity. Hisagi continued, in reassuring explanation. "My zanpaktou. He is a direwolf, and you'll have to forgive his hostility right now - he's still unsettled, and it will be a while before I can seal him up again." Black eyes of his own bored into hers. "He's the other reason I found you, although it took me some minutes to elicit his help."

"Minutes?" She guffawed, glancing warily at the misanthropic manifestation. "I was alone..." she drifted off, thick bands of memory stealing her. "_Forever_, it seemed..."

Hisgai gently brushed the hair out of eyes, drawing her back again. "Leiko, it was only minutes." At her disbelief, he nodded solomnly. "On my soul, I swear it was only mintes. Time means nothing there; it gets lost along with everthing else."

_If that was minutes alone in Hell, then what would eternity be like_...? Swallowing hard, she threw a hard glance at the direwolf. "It was minutes too many, in my opinion. Thanks a heap."

A rough sort of rumble issued across the glen, half-warning and half-chuckle.

"Enough of that, Kurookami. I think you've made your point." An improbable half-smile quirked Hisagi's lips. "He's rather opinionated, and the last few weeks of your..._shenanigans_ have worn quite an impression on him."

Affront rippled through Leiko; with effort, she reminded herself that if it wasn't for the obstinate direwolf, she'd still be lost and unable to feel anything at all. On top of that, she remembered the massive hellwolves all too well and was not eager to annoy this one any more than necessary. Begrudgingly, she offered an olive branck. "Hellbeast, huh? Is that how you get in and out of Hell so easily?"

A rough bark of a laugh sprang out of Hisgai, and it might have been her imagination that it was echoed from the far side of the glen. "You think that was easy?" Leiko blushed faintly as he chuckled, quietly and a fair dose of affection to ease her sting. "It took the full force of my bankai to tear us out of there, and even then it was a close call."

Something akin to her old banter sprung up, even though it was far less vicious and not the least bit ill-meant. "Why the hell did you bring us there if you didn't know you could get us out?" A long look at the thoughts dancing across his face, and Leiko read them as clearly as kanji. "You've done that before. You've been there, and back, _before_."

Black eyes met hers, unswerving. "Yes," he answered softly. "But not with someone. I didn't realize how much that would complicate things, how much more power would be required."

"You went there _alone_??" Gut-wrenching horror sprang up, the too-raw memories clawing into Leiko's newly-reclaimed sanity. She had to breathe for several long minutes, and listen to Hisagi's soothing murmurs, before she found her voice agian. "Gods, how the hell did you do it? How did you get out...?"

"Kurookami brought me out," Hisagi answered, his soothing tone reassuring. "That was the day I found my bankai, and found my way home. I-" He broke off for a moment, shepharding his own memories; Leiko wondered, bleakly, if they ever faded completely. "I went there...looking for someone. He- he was my captain," A sharp jerk shook his black, spiky hair. "No, he was more than that. He was my reason for being, my one reason to hope that the world could be a better place. He was my ideal," he admitted quietly. "I was a lot like you, then. I thought nothing could be worse than losing the hope that the world could be a perfect place and live in peace. When Tousen betrayed us all, when he turned to evil in order to destroy it and was destroyed himself, when the flaws of his principles were revealed...something in me broke." Hisagi's voice went hoarse, but he continued resolutely. "I thought, if peace was not possible, if evil could not be eradicated...that I would rather burn in Hell than live in a flawed world." Seeming lost in his own memories, Leiko was captivated by the brutal honesty in his confession. "I learned things. I learned that every choice, at its basist form, is a choice between right and wrong, positive and negative. Good and evil, if you will. If you eliminate one of those options, even one as vile as as evil, then you are eliminating choice altogether. And you've just seen what that world looks like." Eyes shining with more brightness than just confession, Hisagi looked down at her. "I learned what you did, just now. That nothing is worth losing all hope. At least in a flawed world, there is the chance for change, and chance to fight. A chance to make things better. Not perfect, but..._better_."

Caught up in the weight of the moment, Leiko shuddered, trying to banish her own memories with a feeble attempt at levity. "You could have just told me, you know."

Hisagi snorted. "Would you have believed me?"

"Of course not," Leiko huffed, begrudgingly chagrined. 'I would have told you to go fuck yourself _and_ the horse you rode in on, clung to my ideals and to hell with you. Nothing you said would have made a damn bit of difference, unless it would have been to inspire some new way to torment you." Blushing, she fell silent for a while.

Stunned by her experience and the revelations Hisagi had bestowed on her, Leiko regarded herself - for the first time in a long time - with a sort of brutal honesty. Going to Hell and back, literally, and with someone who had voluntarily taken an enormous risk in order to show her the truth, rattled Leiko to her very core. The similarities between her own life and Hisagi's were undeniable and unexpectedly moving. She was forced to admit to herself that he had been right about her all along, not because he was an insufferably superior shinigami, but because he had been there and learned the flaws of idealism. He understood her to a degree that would have been galling..._before_.

Before Hell had forced her to realize that she was not alone in suffering devestating loss and shattered illusions. Now, laying in Shuuhei's arms, warmed by his trust in her and the lengths he had gone to in order to rescue her from herself, she felt all the anger and hate and bitterness and _lonliness_ starting to melt away. The old her would have cursed it as weakness; the new her was nearly weak with relief that she wasn't alone any more - this man, this _one_ person at least, not only wanted the same things as she did, but had learned the hard way how _not_ to accomplish them.

A long, squirmy silence while she tried to find a graceful way to bury hatchets. "I _was_ being kind of a bitch, wasn't I?"

"_Kind_ of?" Hisagi glanced down at her. "You know, that bathroom thing was disgusting."

"_Tell_ me about it," Leiko shot back, feisty but utterly without rancor. "You didn't _have_ to follow me in there, perv."

He chuckled, a sound that spread like oil across her skin. "If I had let you out of my sight, you would have been through the window and getting into gods know what before I could blink."

"Liar," she returned, poking at her neck adornment. "You would have found me before I got more than five feet, and we both know it. You didn't hound me like a ghost, day and night, just to keep me from running off." She tilted her head at him. "Why _did_ you do it?"

For a long moment he was quiet, exuding the distinct impression that he was struggling with the answer, for what reason Leiko could only guess. But she waited, patiently. She knew when he answered, it would be the truth. Finally, meeting her garnet eyes with a guarded look of his own, Hisagi spoke quietly.

"To forge a bond between us, albeit a crudely forced one." His face was painfully apologetic. "I needed to get through to you, but as a stranger I would have only been your enemy. I needed some basis for you to start to trust me, even if it was just making myself a permenent feature in your environment. By being near you at all times, even during those moments that are usually private, it forced you to learn on some basic level that you could trust me. Even if it was just trusting that I would be there, trusting that I wouldn't take advantage of you when you were vulnerable." His voice dropped, a hint of sadness working its way into his countenance. "It wasn't how I wanted it to be, I would have preferred you to come to me on your own..." He seemed to realize what he was saying, dispelling with a tiny shake the unexepected vulnerability in his voice. He roughened both his tone and his expression. "But it was necessary, given the timeframe of your ultimatum."

For a moment, Leiko was furious. And so hurt it took her breath away. "So, the only reason you did any of this was to break me!?"

He caught her chin, forcing her to look into his eyes. What she saw there made her feel faint. "At first, yes." The brutal honesty doused the fire in her, and if she continued to meet his eyes it was with an entirely different kind of heat. "But the bond works both ways, and I had no way to calculate that. I wasn't expecting-" Gently his thumb started to trace the line of her jaw. "I wasn't expecting - _you_. You broke me back, you fiery hellion, and the degree to which you've affected me..." He broke off, almost embarrassed; the moment overtook them both, and he retreated into some of his distant stoicism. "In any case, as it turned out such concentrated familiarity made it easier for me to find you...later."

She swallowed, NOT wanting to access that memory again so soon. "Force a bond, huh? Pretty manipulative. Where'd you learn that trick?" Despite herself, her tone had gotten stiff; she was more than a little unsettled at the effectiveness of Hisagi's mechanations and totally unable to deal with the seething desire that had been building between them. Another fidgit on his end, and as Leiko took in the penitent look on Hisagi's face, his true reason for reticence became clear.

"From Gin," he replied, so softly Leiko could hardly hear him, but a shudder ran through her nonetheless. "It was one of the ways he got Kira so closely bonded to him. Izuru was not allowed to leave Gin's presence for the first six months of his captaincy." A thread of anger wormed its way into Hisagi's voice. "I watched a true, loyal friend turn into a lapdog in less than half a year, and by the time Kira got some free time again, he would have cut off his own arm had Gin asked him to. And what _I_ did would be considered non-invasive compared to some of Gin's..._methods_." Hisagi shook his head, refusing to say more.

"Is that why he's such a nervous wreck?" Leiko felt the faintest stirrings of guilt for picking on the slender willow of a shinigami.

"Partly. He's come a long way, believe it or not - your showing up threw him for quite a loop." For a moment Leiko frowned - was her presence, and just the reminder of her father, really such a bane to everyone? - but then Hisagi pulled her closer in a soothing gesture. "Kira will be fine, trust me. You are a reminder of a difficult time for him, but that isn't necissarily a bad thing. You might want to try talking to him sometime, _nicely_." She frowned at the emphasis, deserved though it was, but Hisagi's next words stilled her protest. "It might do both of you some good."

Leiko suddenly realized that not once did Hisagi refer to her father by the last name she shared. Before she could reply, his gaze went distant for a minte, as if he was listening for something, before he turned his head to speak over his shoulder. "What is it, Izuru-fukutaicho?"

"A message. From the real world. Sounds urgent." Kira entered the glade with as much professional confidence as he ever showed, holding an ear unit out to Hisagi. "It was hours old when it finally got to me, and I didn't think it should wait any longer."

"Very well." Shuuhei made to stand, but Leiko's tight grip forestalled him.

"You're not leaving...??" She clamped her mouth shut on the near-desperate tone in her voice, but the panic lingered. She had the irrational feeling that if she lost sight of this man she might go mad. The echoes of Hell still held her tight.

Shuuei noticed, of course, his face softening. "Don't worry, I'll be right over there." He pointed towards a large elm at the edge of the firelight, behind which the black eyes of the hazy direwolf still watched keenly. "I'll stay within sight, but if the message is urgent then it cannot wait." Giving her one last squeeze before untangling himself and rising to his feet, he smiled faintly. "I'm not leaving you alone - Kira will stay with you, and I'll be back in moments."

Hisagi drifted off towards the shadowy edge of the glen, all but disappearing into the shadows. A long, uncomfortable silence filled the glen, both remaining inhabitants unsure of each other. Kira fidgited, but for once it didn't irk Leiko; she knew a little too much about him now to find him repulsive. She actually found herself reaching for something at least neutral to say, to cut the awkwardness.

"The message is hours old, you said. Are we that far from Sereitei?" She didn't recognize this part of Soul Society, and was curious to orient herself. "Or did it just take a while to find us?"

Kira looked half surprised and more than a little frightened that she was talking to him. Eyeing her askance, he answered truthfully enough. "No, we're not far; it was the message that was delayed, not me. I knew to find you here. Taicho-" he swallowed, glancing nervously at her. "He told me he might have to...that you two might end up in..." At a loss for words, Kira's voice dropped. "And this is where I found him, last time."

That caught her attention. "The first time he returned? _You_ found him?" Kira nodded, looking a little relieved that she'd put the pieces together and spared him the explanation. Leiko rolled her eyes, exasperated with without her formally acerbic edge. "Oh, would you just sit down and stop fidgiting already? I don't bite."

With a jerk, Kira stared at her for a long moment as if wondering whether or not she really _did_ bite. Finally,with a quick glance in the direction that Hisagi had taken, he plunked himself stiffly down onto a log near her.

More silence, which Leiko stubbornly broke. "You've known Shuuhei for a long time?"

On a topic that could be considered safe, Kira nodded. "Since the Academy. He's the best friend I've ever had, the most loyal you could imagine..." The angular face tightened, firelight dancing across the sharp features. "Even as many times as I've failed him, failed myself, he's never given up on me." Blue eyes returned to hers, an unexpected heat steeling behind them. "He would do anything for the people he cares about. _Anything_." He stared firmly, daring her to disagree, to condescend.

As if she would, after all that had just happened. "I know." Kira regarded her sharply, trying to see if she was being sarcastic, but she just stared back as openly and honestly as she knew how. When the silence drew out long enough, a kind of understanding seemed to settle between them. The atmosphere lightened.

Quietly, Leiko asked the one thing she really wanted to know. "You knew my father, too."

Kira gaze took on a hint of resignation; if he had lived in terror of her asking him this, he'd made peace with the inevitability and their newfound comraderie seemed to make it easier to answer. "Yeah," he all but whispered. His gaze broke away, turning inward with a drawn look graying his face. "He was my captain. He was my...everything." The last trailed off so softly as to barely be heard. Leiko waited while Kira began to rock, slightly. "I don't remember a lot of things; they say I'm blocking it or whatever, but I remember plenty." Steeling himself, Kira met her eyes again with a sort of resolve firming his features. "I know what everyone says, and some of it is true. Some of the things he did," At that, Kira started rubbing absently at his chest, where a barely-visible scar seemed slashed across his ribcage. "Some of them were wrong. Very wrong. Evil, unforgivable. I can even manage to understand that he needed to be stopped, that he probably-" A loud gulp, but Kira soldiered on doggedly. "He probably deserved to die. And I'm okay with that; I can live with those truths. It's the other ones I have trouble with..." Again Kira drifted off, but now Leiko's curiosity was peaked.

"What other ones?" Leiko spoke in a hushed whisper, almost reverent. She was drinking in every one of Kira's words, and when he saw her honest eagerness, saw that it was costing her to hear this as much as it was costing him to speak, his posture wilted slightly, an almost apologetically earnest light in his eyes.

"He wasn't _all_ bad." It came out nearly a plaintive plea, the desperation to be understood cutting Lieko to the quick. "There were times when he was just..._nice_. Kind, almost. I know, that's not enough to undo everything he did, I _know_ that." Kira wilted further, helpless. "But...there was good in him too. I _know_ there was. He wasn't just a monster."

Assaulted by a torrent of emotions, words poured out of Leiko before she could think them. "He always brought me presents, always. One year it was a kitten; another visit, he brought a jewelry box that was sooo beautiful it made me cry. And he taught me everything, he taught me how to fight and how to find my spirit power, and when it started to develop he brought me food. And then when I was twelve, I was attacked - a bunch of stupid, drunk men looking for some sport - but my father was away and I had to fend for myself. When my father found out, every single one of those men was dead within a week." She shuddered, realizing for the first time the reality of her father's capability for cruelty. "It was an odd kind of kindness, but he _did_ have it. There was good in him, sometimes."

Tears were streaming down her face by the time Leiko's hand touched Kira's knee, resting there in empathy. The most brilliant smile Leiko had ever seen lit up Kira's face, and for the first time he seemed to have a hint of confidence in his bearing. "There _was_ good." Affirmation flooded his eyes. "I _knew_ I wasn't imagining it..."

The moment of bittersweet sympatico was rendered by Hisagi's return. "Thank you for bringing this when you did, Izuru-fukutaicho. It was indeed urgent, and further delay would have proven detrimental." The captain was all business, and in response a newly-assured Kira snapped into military posture. Noting the change in his vice, Shuuhei turned to Leiko with a knowing glint in his eyes and held out a hand to help her up. "I hate to ask more of you, but are you up to another trip? Somewhere far more hospitabe this time." A tiny smile graced his angular face, although his eyes were serious.

Leiko shuddered slightly, feeling reluctant. "Where to?"

"The real world. It seems there's been an interesting development in the case of your criminal charges, and it bears no more delay." Despite the statement, Shuuhei waited patiently for her answer, and Leiko knew if she refused he would allow her to cavil.

All the more reason not to. "Okay." She reached out, trying to quell her relish as her hand slipped into his. "You'll be with me the whole time?"

"I'm not going anywhere," Hisagi murmured, pulling her close. Her skin began to tingle. "Izuru-fukitaicho, please see to the squad until we return." Kira nodded and vanished in a pop of kido. Hisagi pulled out the communicator and barked an order into it. "Shuuhei-taicho, executing high-priority orders. Open the gate."

Leiko tried to disctract herself from the nerves twisting in her belly; she was rapidly developing an aversion to this whole dimension-hopping experience. "So, where are we going exactly?"

As the senaki gate opened behind them, Shuuhei muttered the only words that could have made Leiko half-wish they were headed back to Hell instead.

"We are going to see your mother."


	28. A Rose by Any Other

"Oh gods. Oh gods oh gods oh gods..."

Hisagi just chuckled at her. "There's no need to panic. She's your mother, there's nothing to be afraid of."

"Oh no, you're totally right. _Nothing_ to be afraid of," Leiko muttered back as they emerged from the senkai gate. "It's not like I tried to torture and destroy everyone and everything she cares about..." Leiko fought down a sickening wave of nausea. "I changed my mind. I wanna go back." The gate winked shut behind them, to her intense frustration.

"She cares about _you_, too, you know. You'll be fine. Quit being so dramatic." Hisagi shot a glance at her, fighting a tiny smile. "You're starting to sound like your mother."

"Oh, shut up. I hope you're enjoying this." Anger was helping with the irrational terror at facing her mother again. "I'll be lucky if I come away from this in one piece."

Wisely, Hisagi said nothing in reply, and Leiko was reduced to silently stressing out as they headed for a palatial building situated along a stunning coastline. As they entered the front lobby of the hotel, Leiko threw an anxious look around, marvelling at how deep the fear ran for someone she had dreamed of killing for so long. No, it wasn't fear exactly; she was full of overwhelming emotions that all jumbled together into this general feeling of trepidation. It was as if the last few days had conspired to knock loose all the solid, fuming parts of her, and she was left tumbling among them. Leiko wished rather desperately for even five minutes to alone to assimilate.

So much for wishing; Matsumoto Rangiku was already striding towards them with a face like a thundercloud. In the background, Leiko could hear the surf and something else growling and with a hard gulp, she faced the approaching figure like a criminal facing their own execution.

Leiko would have sold her soul for some hint as to what on earth to say in this situation, but she had to time to worry about it. A few more long-legged strides saw Rangiku winding up and, without preamble, she punched Hisagi square in the jaw.

"You took my kid to _Hell!?"_ Before Shuuhei had even finished hitting the floor, Matsumoto was on top of him, pummeling him mercilessly. "Are you _insane_?? Do you know how ridiculously dangerous and _stupid_ that was?! Whatever _possessed_ you...!!"

"Ow! Will you stop that-!" Flailing like a fish, Hisagi tried unsuccessfully to ward of her blows. "Someone get her off of me!!"

"Oh shut up - I haven't even gotten _started_!" A few more punches landed, along with a sharp flick to the nose and yank of spiky black hair. "You could have _killed_ her, baka! You're lucky I haven't sicked Heineko on you yet-" Relentless, she twisted an earlobe, enciting Hisagi to let out a somewhat girlish shriek.

"That would be inadvisable, Matsumoto-san, as doing so would probably lay waste to this beautifully designed lobby. Isn't the balance of color and the placement of furniture delightful? Very zen. I must ask after their interior designer." With a sharp click of his fan, Urahara regarded the scene with enigmatic bemusement. "Hisagi-san, so nice to see you. Have you been working out?"

The absurdity of such banter stalled Matsumoto's assault just long enough for another droll voice to chill the air. "Get up, Matsumoto. This isn't helping, and you're making a scene." Toushirou looked grim and more than a little embarrased at the attentions directed their way by goggle-eyed humans. "At least let up long enough to get to the suite, where we can talk in private."

Oddly enough, that seemed to stem the tide of abuse. Leaning down with a feral grin, Matsumoto fisted a clump of Hisagi's clothes under his chin and glowered in a decidedly unpleasant manner. "I'm _not _finished with you, Shuuhei." Huffing she stood up, whirling around. "Where's my kid - I wanna see for myself that she's alright..." Seeing Leiko standing off to the side, face in her hands and shaking uncontrollably, Matsumoto gasped in horrified shock. "She is NOT alright, look at her! She's traumatized-!"

It was more than Leiko could take. Pealing laughter filled the room as her hands dropped to her waist, clutching herself in helpless mirth. "That-" Leiko pointed at the prone and pummeled Hisagi, "was AWESOME!! Augh...!" Waving her hands dramatically, she lampooned Hisagi's impressively executed deadfall. Then she collapsed into raucus giggles as Shuuhei threw her a withering glare. "I've been wanting to do that for weeks!!"

Blushing, Hisgai worked his jaw around, probing for permanent damage. Rangiku rounded on him.

"What did you do to make my kid want to punch you!?" Her hands clenched into fists as Hisagi paled and flinched back. "Hisagi Shuuhei, I swear to the gods I'm gonna wring your neck!!"

"Enough already." Yoruichi's rich contralto purred soothingly into the bedlam. "We're paying good money for a suite, we may as well use it before someone calls the local authorities. They have strange laws against assault here." She seemed far more bothered by human laws against beating people up than by they chaotic scene before her. "Let's go - there's drinks waiting, and ice for Hisagi's face. He's starting to get puffy."

No one could fault that logic, although Hisagi looked rather less than assured, and slowly the gathered shinigami began shuffling out of the lobby. Urahara dragged Shuuhei up off the floor while Hitsugaya concentrated on keeping a still-furious Matsumoto from doing some more hitting and Yoruichi tried to keep from laughing.

She wasn't the only one. "You have _got_ to teach my that right hook," Leiko chortled, trotting past after the bruised captain.

Hitsugaya was the only one who got to see Matsumoto jerk slightly, staring at Leiko's back as she passed...and if Rangiku's fury remained after that, there was a light in her eyes that could only have been maternal pride.

* * *

An hour later saw them all comfortably arranged around the spacious suite Urahara had secured, the large central room filled with couches and a small kitchenette and minibar area. Spacious bedrooms branched off on either side. From his perch in the window seat, Hitsugaya surveyed the scene and stifled a sigh; he might have been the only one who could tell that Matsumoto's fury was just a thin veneer to cover her insecurity, but regardless of the reason her distress wasn't helping anything. The energy she was pumping into the atmosphere only made things more tense as they waited for the last person they had summoned to this impromptu assembly to arrive.

Hitsugaya and Matsumoto had been busy in the hours since they had discovered the whereabouts of the Ninth Captain and his ward. As furious and worried as Matsumoto had been, there was little that could assuage her besides putting their plans for Leiko into action. Full of pent-up energy, Matumoto had nearly burned out hell butterlies as messages were sent all over the Gotei 13; their plan was relatively simple, but required several key factors and the assistance of every single captain of the Gotei 13. Securing them had helped the hours disappear while they waited for Hisagi and Leiko to return from their dangerous sojurn. By the time the Ninth captain had gotten his urgent message and arrived at the hotel with Leiko in tow, everything Hitsugaya and Matsumoto could do had been completed, and the final pieces rested in their anticipated visitor's hands. Hitsugaya glanced at the still-upset Third captain; it really was no wonder she was a nervous wreck, but there was nothing for it but to wait a bit more, and so he took in the rest of the suite's inhabitants.

Yoruichi was still trying not to laugh as she made ice packs at the minibar and handed them to Leiko and Hisagi, the latter of which had definitely gotten puffy. Urahara appeared to be asleep in a lounge chair by the window, which annoyed Toushirou, although mercifully the kids and the mod souls were nowhere to be seen. While Matsumoto paced along one wall, Shuuhei flinched as Leiko spent nearly as much time mocking his bruises as she did helping him ice them. That interplay earned a longer stare, by the end of which Toushirou's green eyes had widened a bit and a ghost of a smile had appeared at the corners of his lips.

_Well, that's interesting_. Turning back to his seething lover, he wished Hisagi a silent blessing. _I hope you have the slightest idea what you're getting yourself into_...

_Did_ you_, Master_? Hyournimarou couldn't resist a selacious ribbing as Histugaya's gaze returned to Rangiku.

Hitsugaya didn't bother replying to his soul slayer. "Rangiku." Just that, his usual bored tone underscored with a hint of warmth he spared only for her, and she stopped in her tracks, glaring at him for a second before deflating a hair.

"I know," she murmured, blue eyes piercing as she drifted closer. "I just...I don't even know how to start talking to her, much less find out if she's okay."

"She's fine," Hitsugaya replied drolly, allowing his smile out a shade more and glancing at the far side of the room.

Looking dubious, Rankigu followed his gaze, watching Leiko fuss over Hisagi for a moment before she whipped back to look at Toushirou with barely-concealed surpise and a slightly-too-loud exclamation. "Shuuhei-?!"

"_Sh_," Hitsguaya hissed, very nearly rolling his eyes; dammitall if subtely didn't completely elude her. "It certainly looks like it, don't you think?"

Matsumoto vascilated between delighted suprise and irrational jealousy, but before they could continue their observation of the obviously-budding regard between Leiko and Hisagi, the awaited final guest arrived in a flash of shunpo.

Ise Nanao strode into the room, pushing her glasses up in a smooth, well-practiced motion. "My apologies for the delay; it took longer than anticipated to get everything together." Meeting Hitsugaya's aquamarine eyes, she nodded curtly. Nodding back, Hitsugaya called everyone together.

Settling themselves among the couches, an air of expectation hovering over the room, Leiko's nerves presented themselves as she broke the tension, her tone laced with false bravado.

"So, what's the reason for the party? Are we all gonna hold hands and sing kumabya?" The acerbic tone set Histugaya's teeth one edge, echoes of the recalcitrant rebel seething out of Leiko. In a barely perceptible motion, Hisagi reached out and touched her arm, lightly. Jumping at the contact, Leiko threw him a glare that was utterly ignored. A moment passed before she blushed and fell silent; some of the negativity seeped out of her. "This is about the whole criminal charges thing, right?"

"Yes," Nanao jumped in, perfuntory, her crisp and professional attitude soothing some of the awkwardness. Efficiently, she shuffled the stack of papers in her lap, reading the top page in a librarian manner. "The criminal, Ichimaru Leiko, has been found guilty without trial of the crimes of: falsifying Academy documents in order to gain admittance to Sereitei; unauthorized entry into secure areas of the Archives; theft of classified documents pertaining to Third and Tenth squad; unauthorized entry into the Twelfth squad compound resulting in the theft of an illegal object known as the Sphere; unauthorized entry into the Tenth squad compund - specifically, the private captain's quarters of said compound; kidnapping of high level officers - specifically the Third and Tenth squad captains; entrapment of said officers in a hostile environment resulting in emotional and physical battery and near-death; conspiracy to invade Sereitei; and substantiated threats to put the lives of countless souls in harm's way for the purpose of furthering subversive schemes. The criminal Ichimaru Leiko has furthermore been found guilty of feeding commoners with false rumors and inciting rebellion among the lesser souls. No less than four of the above crimes are reconcilable by death, or by no less means than the destruction of all soul power and exile for all eternity." Drawing a breath after the long recitation, Nanao resettled her glasses and glanced around the too-silent room.

"Well, they got one thing right," Leiko said loudly, her jesting barely covering the misery in her voice. "I didn't kill anyone." Mirthlessly, she met Histugaya's eyes; despite himself, Toushirou found a tiny smile on his lips. Nodding slightly in aquiescence of their long-ago battle of wills, he tried to wear an expression of encouragement to bolster the girl's obviously flailing hope. It didn't seem to help.

"Oh, there's more," Nanao interjected, seeming to miss the entire byplay. "The criminal Ichimaru Leiko has been conclusively established to be the offspring of the traitor, Ichimaru Gin. It has been determined that under his guidence and influence, the criminal Ichimaru Leiko has conspired to undo the establishement of Serieti in general and the organization of the Gotei 13 in specific. For these crimes and any others not heretofore conclusively attributable, the criminal Ichimaru Leiko has been condemned to eradication, which is death by way of total soul particle disinigration, date to be determined..."

"Okay, okay, I get it. I'm a criminal, doomed to die a horrible death." The anger back in her voice was underscored by the tears glimmering in Leiko's eyes; the official condemnation of her father had obviously cut particularly deep. "You don't have to keep repeating my name like that, like it's disgusting or something." A reluctant murmer, so low that only Hitsugaya heard it, jerked Leiko's garnet eyes around, finally, to meet her mother's. "What did you say?"

Matsumoto straightened; much discussion had gone into how difficult this was going to be for Leiko to hear, but she stiffened her resolve. "It's not your name." Firmly, but with as much gentleness as she could, Rangiku lay out the truth. "'Ichimaru Leiko' is not your name. Not the one I gave you, anyway." She waited, with such calm that Hitsugaya regretted his earlier conclusion of her gracelessness.

Leiko's mouth worked silently for a long moment. "What do you mean, it's not my name?? If you didn't give it to me, then who..." She choked to a halt, thunderstruck. Hisagi placed a supportive hand on her arm, but she didn't seem to notice.

Matsumoto's expression remained strong, though heartbreaking empathy seeped through. "It's the kind of thing he would do. Rename you, claim you as his own. At the very least, it would make you impossible to find, and if we ever met, it would cause plenty of hurt." She quieted, unwilling to take that any further for the moment, and then waited, painfully hopeful.

"You want me to give up my name? What good would _that_ do?!" Leiko looked like she was slowly starting to fall apart, an estimation supported by the frown working its way onto Hisagi's face as he watched her intently.

"All these crimes are attributed to Ichimaru Leiko, daughter of Gin. And the word in Sereitei is that Gin's daughter attacked Histugaya and Matsumoto out of revenge for her father's death. There is no way to hide or curtail any of that. However, no one outside of the captain and lieutenant ranks know that you're also Matsumoto's daughter, and no one else has seen what you look like." Nanao-chan's glasses flashed, catching the light. "It's a thin margin, but there is an opportunity here. As Gin's daughter, you are a criminal condemned to die. As Matsumoto's daughter..." Nanao adjusted her glasses so that her midnight eyes could meet Leiko's. "You have a chance at life here."

"That's quite a switcheroo," Urahara piped in; Hitsguaya had almost forgotten the now-awake shopkeeper in the corner, as well as the dark sphynx perched on the arm of his chair. "How do you expect to pull that off?"

Hitsguya jumped in; Matsumoto was vibrating with the effort of staying composed and she needed backup. "It won't be easy, but we believe it can be done. Nanao can fudge the papers," At this Isa nodded curtly, "and she can wrap up the official documentation needed to maintain our cover story."

"Which is?" Yoruichi purred. Gold and silver eyes were watching Toushirou intently.

"Ichimaru Leiko was taken, under custody of Hisagi Shuuhei, into Hell in an attempt to break her resolve and curtail her intentions to invade Sereitei." Hitsugaya's vitalescent eyes slid over to regard both Hisagi and Leiko as his voice dropped emphatically. "She did not survive." He let that hang for a moment before continuing as gently as he knew how. "In the meantime, the SMC became aware of the existence of Matsumoto Raniku's long-lost daughter from Rukongai, who is deeply connected among the commoners and more than willing to assist with calming the rebellious legions in Rukongai before anyone else gets hurt."

Leiko shuddered like a birch in a strong wind. A long moment passed, as Hisagi stroked her arm soothingly, before she worked her way around to speech. "So, I give up everything, take on another identity, and you keep me alive? For _what_? What does that leave me with?" A single tear slid down her impassive cheeks as she stared into the distance.

"There's more," Hitsugaya said softly; this was the most delicate part of the proposal. "We've already secured the Captain-Commander's agreement to work with this, but there are conditions." Drawing breath, he took in both Leiko and Hisagi. "You must agree to remain under the care and supervision of the Ninth squad. You must also agree to continue wearing the band that seals your reiatsu," At the predictable stir of protest, Hitsugaya raised his voice. "Subject to review after Leiko has proven she is no longer a threat to Sereitei."

"And how is that to be defined?" Hisagi fairly growled defensively; Leiko didn't move a muscle.

"In addition to helping quell the uprising of the commoners, Leiko must agree to the third condition. She is to be instrumental in implementing a long-overdue Rukongai improvement plan." Hisagi jerked; Histugaya noted the reaction, nodding solomnly. "It's a decade-old proposal, that until now has been pending review and approval. Circumstances being what they are, it has been unearthed and awaits ratification and the election of chairmen to oversee the implementation. Soi Fong has already put forth her name, and - as he is the architect of the plan - so has Hisagi Shuuhei's." Now it was Leiko's turn to jerk as she whipped around to stare dumfounded at the Ninth captain. "There is room for one more name, but it cannot be that of a condemned criminal purported to have died." Quietly, Histugaya summarized for the stunned redhead. "It's everything you wanted to achieve in coming here, Leiko. And no one has to get hurt."

Surprisingly, Leiko started to giggle and rock, her arms wrapped tightly around her knees. "You want me to join the shinigami. You want me to give up my name. The _last_ connection I have to myself, to my father, and _you want to take it from me_." Suddenly she jumped to her feet, frantic. "I can't- this is too much, I can't just..." Whirling, she gasped at Hisagi. "I have to get out of here-!!"

It wasn't an entirely unexpected reaction, but Histugaya chided himself for pushing her so hard, so quickly. Exchanging quick glances with Hisagi, he nodded and watched as they disappeared in a flash of kido. Hitsugaya's hand flashed out and grabbed Matsumoto's arm as she made to move. "Let them go." Matsumoto rounded on him, but he met her with a look that he knew she would take seriously. "She needs time to think, and Hisagi is with her."

Matsumoto resisted a moment longer before she slumped, leaning against him. "Well, that could have gone better," she muttered, wrapping her arms around his waist and nuzzling her head into the hollow of his neck.

"It went as expected." Toushirou kissed the top of her head, losing himself for a second in the scent of her hair. "Now all we can do is wait for her to see the truth."

"It's so much to ask." Rangiku's vulnerable mutter muffled through his shirt, and Toushriou hugged her tighter. "Asking her to choose to be _my_ daughter over _his_. She doesn't even _know_ me."

Pulling back and tilting her head up to face him, Hitsugaya dropped a light kiss on her lips. "Then show her who you are," he said simply.

Rangiku snorted. "How?"

"That, my love, is for you to decide." The rest of his thought went unspoken and Histugaya held her, watching the sun sink towards the horizon.

_If you could melt a heart as frozen as mine, then Leiko doesn't stand a chance..._

* * *

Hisagi hadn't done anything by halves when he'd wisked Leiko away; they were on the far side of the island chain, on the most southeastern corner of the largest island, when Matsumoto finally found them. She had waited as patiently as she knew how, trusting with all her heart that Leiko just needed time to work everything out. When Heineko roused, insisting that Kurookami had asked that she joined her daughter, Rankigu had shared one look with Toushirou and flashed away without giving herself time to steep in her insecurity.

Now, dropping out of shunpo on the rough, folded rock that was the cooled-off remains of active lava flow, Rangiku found her daughter sitting alone amidst the burnt-out, blackened wasteland around them. The wind off the ocean swirled around the hardened lava rock, rippling down to the coastline. Not so far below the surface crust, the active flow still made its way inexorably towards the ocean. Cold water met molten lava, the impact of opposing forces erupting into plumes of ash and steam that reached into the heavens, leaving in their wake new ground. The imagery filling her with an odd hopefulness, Rangiku slowly walked up behind Leiko and dropped to her knees at her side.

Long moments passed while she tried to figure out what to say.

"Don't say anything." Leiko snuffled, curled up in a ball and refusing to look in Matsumoto's direction. "Just...just answer my questions, okay?" Rangiku nodded silently, wondering if the motion could be seen by Leiko, who stared obstinately into the distance, watching the lava burble out into the ocean water. Lieko drew a deep breath. "Why did you do it? Why did you leave me alone in Rukongai?"

The cut was deep but expected, and Matsumoto answered with all the honesty of truthful reflection. "I didn't know what else to do. After growing up with Gin, it was all I knew how to do." At that, Leiko twitched, but Matsumoto continued in a low, compelling voice. "Do you think you are the only one he left? It was never enough, was it? No matter how much you gave, how much you loved, how much you begged him not to - He. Still. Left." Tears slid silently down Leiko's cheeks, though she still stared off into nothing and she didn't deny. "When you came, I thought maybe..._maybe_ he would stay..." Tears of her own wet Matsumoto's face as she continued. "But he didn't. He turned and walked away. I swore, right then and there, that I was damned if I was going to let you grow up like I did, knowing abandoment and sorrow. You were going to have a home, and a family, and love that didn't go away." Tentatively, Rangiku reached out and brushed a damp strand of hair out of Leiko's eyes; Leiko didn't flinch away. "I found a stranger, a woman I'd never met before, someone Gin couldn't have known about. I followed her for a year, watching her with her family. They were perfect - loving, kind, generous. One day, I got her alone and told her everything, and she agreed to take you on as her own." Rangiku's hand continued to stroke Leiko's hair, elated that she was being allowed to do so. "I was going to visit all the time, every chance I got, no matter what I had to do to cover my tracks so Gin couldn't follow me. But the very next time I went back, you were gone. I went nuts; for years I looked for you, everywhere. When I couldn't wait any longer - when Heineko couldn't wait any longer - I left Rukongai forever and entered the Academy. As soon as I did, I knew he would be watching me. Over the years, I was too afraid to look for you, but I kept my ears open and still no word of you. Then-" Matsumoto halted, trying to work moisture back into her dry mouth. "Then the war happened and...everything changed."

Finally, Leiko stirred. "The war. You killed him. Why?" Matsumoto opened her mouth, but Leiko cut her off. "I can work with the idea that he needed to be stopped, and maybe only death could do that. But why did _you_ have to be the one to kill him?"

Rangiku took a deep breath. "I've thought about that a lot over the years. I think, I was the only one who could have. Sometimes, I think-" She drifted off for a moment; unseen, Leiko turned and watched her contemplate. "I think he _wanted_ me to kill him. I think he knew his time was up, that he had gambled and lost, and there was no other hand he'd rather have died by." Tears flowing again, Rangiku barked a rough chuckle. "He was selfish like that. And in a way, he was doing me a favor, too. If he hadn't died on my sword, I don't think I could have ever believed he was gone. I don't think I would have been able to let go of him. " A quiet sob drew Rangiku from the past.

Blue eyes met red as Leiko struggled to find breath. "You loved him." Another sob wracked her thin frame. "My father. You loved him."

In one swift motion, Matsumoto swept her child into a relentless hug. "Of course I did, dearling." Rangiku rubbed the heaving figure in as soothing a manner as she knew how. "You read the file on the Tenth squad - didn't you read the part where I was catatonic for months after he died?"

"Sure I did," Leiko snuffled. "I didn't believe it, though." Rubbing at her face, Leiko pulled back and looked tearily up at her mother. "You did end up hooking up with your captain, you know."

Rangiku regarded her daughter soberly. "I loved Gin, and killing him nearly destroyed me. He taught me many things, saved my life a hundred times over, and for that I will always be grateful. He taught me how to love, no matter what the cost." Brushing tears away from both their faces, she looked earnestly into Leiko's eyes. "But it was Toushriou who taught me how to _be_ loved. And for that, I owe him everything."

Countless emotions flitted across Lieko's face as Rangiku waited for her to pull away from their embrace, but she didn't move. Instead, garnet eyes flickered off into the distance, where the barely-discernable figure of Hisagi Shuuhei crouched on the horizon. Shuddering, she slowly let Rangiku pull her close again, and when the eyes drifted shut and she submitted to being cradled, Rangiku thought she'd die of happiness. A long time passed in harmony as mother and daughter reveled in the comfort of each other.

When Leiko found another question to ask, it was with the voice of a weary child. "Do you think he loved us?"

"Yes, dearling. He loved us the best he could." Gently, Rangiku rocked her daughter. "He loved us the only way he knew how - too much to leave us for long, but too afraid of himself to stay."

Slowly and with obvious reluctance, Leiko pulled herself away and looked at Rangiku. She looked terrified, but determined. "I only have one more question." At Rangiku's nod, Leiko took a deep breath. "What's my name?"

The smile that broke out nearly split Rangiku's face in half. "Kei," she all but whispered. "Matsumoto Kei."

Leiko took that in. "It's beautiful," she said, almost suprised. She managed a sharp look. "I can still be Leiko whenever I want, right? I mean, around you guys and stuff."

"You can be whoever you want," Rangiku answered honestly. "Just live, please. Give this oppoturnity at a new life a chance." Her features hardened in determination. "I can't undo all the years Gin had with you, but I've got all the rest of eternity to make it up to you. I promise, you won't have to be alone again."

Again, Leiko's eyes flickered towards the horizon and the fiure crouched there. "Yeah. I kinda figured that out already." With a deep sigh, she glanced at her mother. "Can you get everyone together?"

A second with Heineko was all it took. "Done," Rangiku pronouced; Hisagi appeared first, almost instantly. Hitsugaya arrived a moment later with Isa Nanao, as the shadowy figures of Urahara and Yoruichi flitted into the background.

Taking a huge breath, and instinctively fitting her hand into Shuuhei's, Leiko took the biggest leap of faith ever in her after life.

"Okay. Let's do this."


	29. Culmination

_One year later..._

Striding through the corridors of Third squad, Hitsugaya Toushirou fought the uncharacteristic urge to whistle a jaunty tune as he made his way towards the main offices. Not that it was so terribly unusual for him to be in a pleasant mood these days (or at least somewhat removed from grumpy), but the outward expression of it was just not like him. Still, for once he was feeling downright mischievous, and even his normal patience was curtailed by his eagerness to share his mood.

So, as he rounded the corner leading him to the administrative office, it should not have surprised him that something would spring up to try to rob him of his lightheartedness, that 'something' arriving in the form of a blad-robe-clad projectile that hurtled through the air in front of him as if catapulted from the office. As Hitsugaya jerked to a halt to avoid collision, the black blur finished its trajectory by bouncing off the opposite wall and landing in a crumpled heap on the floor.

"And _don't come back_ until drill scores are the top in the Gotei 13!! And do NOT tell me it's impossible to outdo Eleventh - those bloodthirsty maniacs have held the post for far too long, it's time someone gave them a run for their money!" The command, laced with fury and determination, cut through the air like a zanpaktou, a subliminal growl underscoring its intensity.

The crumpled heap lept into a proper seiza, forelocks brushing the floor. "Yes, SIR!" The crouching figure barked confidently back, but as he reassembled himself into the Third squad lieutenant and beat a hasty retreat, Hitsugaya could see the terror and doubt whitening the man's eyes. "Right away, SIR!"

Shaking his head with a grimace, and checking to ensure no more Seats might be flying through the air, Hitsugaya carefully peeked his head around the doorframe to take in the room. "Keep that up, and you won't have anyone left to order around."

Matsumoto-taicho issued a massive snort. "There's _always_ more of them, and each one lazier than the last. Is it too much to ask that they manage drills without falling over from exhaustion or slicing each other by accident?? On _purpose_ I wouldn't mind, but they're so damn _clumsy_!" Amber waves tossed in annoyance as Hitsugaya entered the room and drew closer to the desk over which Rankigu was hunched.

"You _do_ realize what you sound like, right?" Toushirou muttered dryly, noting with no small satisfaction the stacks of paperwork covering the mahogany surface of her desk.

"Oh, shut up," Rangiku growled, trying to cover the hint of a curl at the corner of her plump lips. "I've been up since dawn and I haven't made a damn dent in the paperwork. How the hell is anybody supposed to do this??"

"It usually helps to have a good lieutenant..." Ducking the predicatble swing at his head, Hitsugaya neatly flitted closer and planted a quick kiss on Rangiku's temple. Blue eyes turned to regard him with mock suprise.

"Hitsugaya-taicho - this is the administrative office! Such behavior is completely inappropriate, and I must heartily object..." An objection that died as Toushirou captured her lips in an enthusiastically-returned kiss.

Breaking away just shy of asphixiation, Hitsugaya ruffled her hair and gazed down affectionately. "How are you holding up?"

"I'm not," Matsumoto grumped, slumping back in chair in a dramatic display of despair and cleavage. "Gods, this place is such a mess. If I had known how much work I'd have to do to get this squad into decent shape, I would have taken the white haori a decade ago. Their drill scores are abominable, at least a dozen seats deserve raises that are years overdue, the housing is fucked and you don't even _want_ to know what the hell butterfly cotes look like." She snorted again; she seemed to be developing quite a repetoire. "There may be debates on their substantiability, but leave their cages uncleaned for a decade and I'll show you some awfully substantial poop." Hitsugaya, overwhelmed whith memories of his very own Rangiku skipping that particular chore at any given excuse, fought with all the presence of a saint to keep his face from twitching into a triumphant grin. Especially when Rangiku's face dipped into an all-too-serious frown. "That's not the worst though. Morale sucks. I mean, it's really abyssmal." She sighed. "Gin really did a number on these guys. I don't know what he was tring to mold them into, but it's as if they're lost without him. The squad has no identity of its own."

Histugaya rubbed her shoulder soothingly, her instant groan compelling him to move behind her chair and massage out some of the knots he found. "So, give them an identity."

"How?" It was nearly a wail, Rangiku's stunning blue eyes gazing plaintively into his green ones.

"You've done it before," Toushirou replied quietly with a tiny shrug. "You claimed yourself back, once. And it's thanks to you that Leiko is even alive."

Rangiku flushed with pleasure. "Well, it wasn't all me. Everyone helped pull that off, and it was Leiko's decision, really." She shifted, making a valient attempt to be concilliatory even as she beamed with maternal pride. "And it's not like it was easy for her, changing sides like that. At least she and Shuuhei are starting to make some real strides in Rukongai. That's helping, I think..." Now worry took it's turn on Rangiku's face, a mother hen fretting over her chick.

"_Hisagi's_ helping, you mean," Hitsugaya muttered gruffly, with benign approval. What had once been blossoming regard had turned into a full-fledged atomic eruption, despite Shuuhei's efforts at being circumspect, and it didn't take long in their presence for anyone to pick up on the dynamic that had sprung up between the captain and former rebel. It had sparked an almost-jealousy with Rangiku at first, but once enough familiarity had been bred for some all-out mother-daughter girl sessions, things had settled out nicely. As long as Toushirou didn't dwell on the one or two girl-talks he'd been unfortunate enough to stumble across and the stunning realization that women really _did_ tell each other _everything_...

Rangiku grinned impishly at him. "Well, she does take after her mother you know, and if there's one thing I can pass down it's how to bag a good Captain..."

That statement demanding another round of inappropraite office behavior, which oddly enough Rangiku broke off first.

"Toushirou, I have too much work to do-" she protested half-heartedly.

"When has that ever stopped you?" He quirked in reply. "Take a break, assuming you remember how. You of all people can't afford to be caught working too much. You have a reputation to uphold."

Rangiku stared at him wide-eyed, noting the playful grin toying across his face. "Toshi, what has gotten into you?"

"Nothing," he quipped. "Just a little suprise, if you're up for it."

As if she could refuse him anything when he was in this anomalistic mien. "A surpise? What kind of surprise?" Her tone was decidedly liscentious, but her eyes darkened in confusion when he took her hand to started to lead her out of the room with a roll of those stunning aqua eyes.

"Not everything has to be about sex, you know," he snorted, tugging her out of the office and down the hall. "Besides, I have to show you." Without another word, he led them outside and started flitting them across rooftops.

"_Show_ me?," Rangiku quipped back, frowning. "Were are we going?"

"Someplace special," Toushirou replied, dropping them out of shunpo in front of the senkai gates.

Rangiku blinked and stared at it as if she'd never seen a portal before. "We're going to the real world? Why!?"

"You'll see," was the enigmatic reply. "Don't worry, it's not an assignment."

"A _personal_ trip?" This was getting more and more interesting. "But I'm not dressed..."

"Taken care of." Hitsugaya flashed her one of his rare, mischievous smiles.

"What do you mean, 'taken care of'? How would you-?" Rangiku stopped in her tracks, flabergasted. "You went _shopping_??"

Toushirou didn't reply, nodding instead at Ukitake who, as usual, was holding the gate open. "Everything set?"

"Hai, Toushirou-kun," the elder captain replied jovially, missing Hitsugaya's faint grimace at the nickname. "Have fun - and good luck!"

"'Good luck'?" Rangiku repeated, abruptly frowning. "Toshi, what are you up to?"

"I told you," With another smile and an insistant tug, Toushirou pulled them into the gate. "It's a surprise."

One final snort. "It'll be a cold day in hell when _you_ pull a surprise over on _me_..."

* * *

"Toshi - _you finally took me out drinking!!"_

Hitsugaya grimaced. "It's not 'drinking'. It's 'tasting'..."

Or at least it was supposed to be. This particular region of the real world was known for its exceptional vineyards and stellar wineries and, looking for an activity that both he and Rankigu could enjoy, wine-tasting seemed like the perfect thing. The locations were gorgeously laid out with many fine examples of architecture and ambience, the wine makers jovial and exceedlingly well-mannered and educated, and the vintages were some of the best that could be had. It was a far cry from the type of sake dive Rangiku was prone to haunt, but with the opportunity for circumspect imbibement of top-quality wines to keep her interest while Hitsugaya reveled in the calm and composed company, it was a clear marriage of interests. Surely, among people and beverages of such renowned, even Rangiku should have been able to absorb and reflect some of the decorum and pleasantry around them.

That had been the plan, anyway. This was their third winery, and dammit if she wasn't working on rounding a solid buzz into downright drunk. To Toushirou's annoyance, a gorgeous woman with an out-of-this-world rack had no trouble at all getting heavy pours on every wine sample and as many refills as she winningly requested. Her glass was never empty and dammitall if she was even tasting the stuff as it went down.

"Gods, it's been _forever_ since I've gone out - this was an awesome idea!!" Rangiku squinched her nose at him and smiled in a way that Toushrou hated to admit melted something in his stomach. "I can't believe you got permission for this!!"

Hitsugaya shrugged, trying to look unconcerned. "I owed you a date. Although, it was considerably harder to get a day off for two captains..."

"I know! I haven't had time off to go drinking in Sereitei all year, much less this!" And expansive arm sweep took in the beautifully appointed tasting room and the human tourists around them. "You must have had a damn good story to get Old Farty Pants to allow it." Despite her appearant intoxication, blue eyes sparkled a little to keenly at him.

"I managed." Hitsugaya shifted, the hairs on the back of his neck raising; he had the sneaking suspicion that she was fishing for information while his conscious brain hoped she was just too drunk to know what she was saying. Glancing at her and trying to be nonchelant, his lips curled downward in suspicion.

Said drunkard giggled and flicked his nose. "You're cute when you frown."

"So you've told me." _About a million times_. Noting that his partner was starting to sway, ever so slightly, Hitsugaya sighed. "Come on - there's one more to go before dinner."

Thanking the winemakers a little too effusively, Rangiku finished her last swallow and tottered toward the entrance. "Oh no, I couldn't possibly-" Catching her elbow as she tripped just a little at the door, Hitsugaya threw her a look of near-disgust as she giggled. "Well, okay - ONE more. If you insist."

The limo ride to the final destination was a little interesting; trying to get enough water and soda crackers into Rangiku to sober her up a bit was made more difficult by the narrow, winding road their extended vehicle was attempting to navigate. One particularly sharp turn had the Third captain thrown into an inelegant splay across Hitsugaya's lap; giggling, she looked up at him.

"Are you taking me to the ends of the earth?" Again, blue eyes seemed a little too clear for it to be a casual inquiry. Heading off her subtle snooping, Hitsugaya stuffed another cracker in her mouth.

"I told you." He couldn't help smiling a little as she spluttered around the crumbs; dammit if she wasn't awfully cute. "We're going someplace special."

Indeed it was; Hitsugaya felt no small amount of satisfaction as the limo rounded the final corner and, pitching up an elegantly landscaped driveway, pulled into their final destination. Situation amidst picture-perfect hills and rolling valleys, a beautifully weathered barn sat at the end of a wide expanse of impossibly green grass. The sun was just touching the tops of the hills, and all around them ordered rows of fruit-laden grapevines marched off into the descending dusk. Rangiku gasped, her inebriation vanishing as she was captivated by the pastoral scene before her. She barely even waited for the limo to come to a halt before she was tumbling out of the vehicle.

"Toshi - it's _beautiful_!" She whirled around, trying to take it all in at once.

"I knew you would like it." Exiting with considerably more grace, Toushirou drew up behind her carrying her wrap; cream colored and luxuriant, it set off her auburn hair and complimented the deep saphire-toned cocktail dress he'd bought for her, with only a little help from Orihime and a lot of ribbing from Ichigo. Adjusting his own baby-blue button down shirt and wondering again why he'd was adamantly warned not to tuck it into his off-white khakis (it just didn't feel right, hanging out like that, dammit!), he gently placed her wrap around her shoulders.

Shivering slightly in the cooling evening air, Rangiku looked at him with glowing eyes that twisted into a slight frown. "It's awfully late, are you sure they're still open?"

"I'm sure." Smiling warmly, he drew her close. Turning her towards the nearest hill, sprinkled with the gnarled vines of the oldest grapes on the property, he started walking them towards it.

"Oooh, how cute!! There's a door in the hill!" Rangiku all but bounced on her toes and clapped her hands, grinning at him.

It was all he could do not to grin back. "They store all their barrelled wines in caves, and their tasting room is in there, too. It's pretty unigue, and I thought you'd want to see it." Pulling open the heavy oak door, he drew back as Rangiku took one step inside before drawing a gasp.

The 'cave' was hardly a cave in the rustic sense. Engineered and modelled after the wine caves of Europe, it was open and spacious, with even walls and a high ceiling decorated with wrought iron light fixtures designed to look like crawling grapewines. Along each side of the passageway, barrels full of aging wine were racked, disappearing into the distance. In between the racks and lining the walkway, hundreds of candles lit the space in a warm glow and banished all shadows and gloominess. Somewhere, music was playing, a sensual and intricate jazz piece that set the mood at elegently romantic. No one else was in sight; at that late hour, they appeared to be the only occupants of the cave.

Enchanted, Rangiku walked into the cave as if she were sleep-walking. "Toshi..." she breathed, staring about her with wide eyes and a faint smile of pure shock. "This is _gorgeous_."

"I thought you'd like it," Toushirou murmurmed, coming up behind her and wrapping his arms around her waist. Nuzzling into her hair, he breathed her in. "I wanted to bring you somewhere really special..."

Rangiku found herself at a total loss for words, but as usual she didn't let that stop her. Twisting around in his arms, she forstalled what sounded like the beginnings of a verbose, pre-planned speech by capturing Toushirou's mouth with hers. The passionate kiss was richly returned for long moments before he stiffened, pulling back a hair and trying again to say something.

"Rangiku, I wanted to-"

"I think I'm done tasting wines," Rangiku murmured, having none of it, chasing him until her lips were pressed to his again. "I'd rather taste _you_," she breathed into his mouth, her hands pulling at him insistently. Another odd hesitation on his part, and then with a growl he gave in, clutching her back with urgency and drawing her in between two stacks of barrels. Pulling her around and pressing her insistently against the wall, their kiss deepened as their hands started pulling at the cumbersome human clothing.

"Oh, it's just _too_ beautiful!!"

The cry echoed around the cave, freezing Toushirou and Rangiku mid-strip as an angry whisper chased it.

"Shut UP, baka! You're too damn loud, you're going to ruin everything."

"_You're_ even louder." The voice was unmistakeable; Rangiku could practically hear the tossing of perfectly bobbed hair. "And if anything is going to ruin this lovely moment, it's your ugly face."

"Shut it, you bastard-" A noisy thump resounded.

Seeting themselves to hasty rights, Rangiku and Toushirou emerged into the supposedly-empty cave. Growling, Toushirou whirled around, searching behind the stacks of barrels. Shock and annoyance vibrated along his frame as he rounded on the first hint of movement he saw. "Yumichika - what the hell are you doing here!?"

Ayasegawa emerged from behind a barrel, preening. "Hitsugaya-toushirou, you cannot expect me to help set all this up and not be here for-"

"Shut up, idiot!" Candlelight shone dully off a shaven pate hiding behind a neighboring barrel. "You have the sense of a donkey-"

"Ikkaku!?" Hitsugaya looked like he was ready to spit molars. "How many people followed you here, Yumichika!?"

Another dainty preen accompanied by a faintly guilty blush. "Only the very _specialist_ of people, Hitsugaya-toushirou...surely you wanted this moment to be-"

"_Private_," Toushriou snarled.

Yumichika looked aghast. "But - how could it be beautiful without your dearest friends?!"

As Hitsugaya tried to figure out which of Yumichika's body parts he would remove first, he heard an odd sound behind him and whirled around. Rangiku was nearly purple with the effort of not laughing. He nearly turned purple himself. "It's not funny-!!"

"No, it's hysterical!" Rangiku objected, her laugh burlbling free as she took his hand soothingly. "Obviously, you planned to surprise me, and now you've been surprised in return. I think it's adorable - and it's what you get for trying to pull one over on me! Never try to surprise Matsumoto Rangiku!" She thumped herself heartily in the chest with a thumb, but before Hitsugaya could refute, another head poked out from behind a barrell.

"Is it time to jump out yet?" Ukitake looked torn between revealing himself and missing his cue. From behind him, a suspiciously pink shadow rumbled in admonishment.

"Jyuush, of course it isn't - he hasn't even asked her yet." The warm, rich voice of Shunsui floated along laced with humor. "He'd better get on with it, though - if Yachiru has to wait much longer this could get ugly-"

"Ask me what?" Rangiku turned inquisitive eyes toward Toushirou, who was sighing in defeat and pinching the bridge of his nose. Resigned, and trying not to wonder how many others were hiding behind the barrels, he met her gaze and drew her closer.

"I wanted to do this...differently. Just the two of us." Another glare that failed to wilt Yumichika, who was nearly vibrating with anticipation and grinning like a fool. "But I guess...I'll just..." Taking a deep breath, he looked deeply and resolutely in her eyes.

"Matsumoto, you know I'm not good at this sort of thing. Words don't come easily to me, nor does using them to express emotion. But surely you know by now that I love you." Halting, he shook his head. "It's more than that, actually, and for once I cannot afford to assume you know my heart." Stunned into silence, all Rangiku could do was stare, mouth slightly open, as Histugaya seemed to draw from deep within himself. "You are my very life. I do not know what I would do without you. Every moment I get to spend with you is...precious to me. You have earned my trust and my devotion a hundred times over. You have loved me more than I thought possible, drawn out parts of my I didn't think existed." His voice grew rough as he gripped her hands tighter. "You've melted my frozen heart from the very beginning, and it is completely yours. I offer it to you, and-" his breath hitched as her eyes started to widen in dawning realization. "It would be the greatest honor if you would give me yours in turn. For eternity."

You could have heard a pin drop. By the time Rangiku found her voice, she barely recognized it.

"Are you...asking me to _marry_ you?"

It was more of a hitch than a nod, as he drew her close, foreheads touching and eyes centimeters apart. "Matsumoto Rangiku, wielder of Heineko, captain of the Third squad, partner and lover..." A faint grin started to curl his lips. "Wilder than the ocean, beautiful as daybreak, fierce and strong and free..." It was all they could do to stand upright, they were both trembling so hard. "Will you consent to be my wife?"

And then he stood there, pinning her with aquamarine eyes deeper than the heart of the ocean, waiting with an air of expectation and a sort of quiet uncertainty that betrayed his nerves. He reminded Rangiku of the boy she had first met all those years ago, the breathatkingly powerful man-child that had just been named captain, assuming a duty well within the scope of his intelligence but far beyond his young experience. Certain he was doing the right thing, but uncertain if he could do it alone. The very qualities and earnestness that had first drawn loyalty out of her confused, damaged heart, that had inspired her to be the best lieutenant and partner she could be and, years later, had drawn her out of the pit of despair and rewarded her with a love she had never dreamed of having.

A love she would never in a million years refuse.

Rangiku never knew if she actaully verbalized the "yes", but she would never forget the feeling of a ring slipping onto her shaking finger. Within seconds the cave eruped with a tidal wave of congratulations as dozens upon dozens of figures detached themselves from the shadows, and the full force of the Gotei 13 and every human friend besides descended on the newly-engaged couple in a tidal-wave of effusive goodwill.

* * *

The evening got delightfully out of hand from there. Yumichika, who had been employed to help make the supposedly-private proposal as beautiful and romantic as possible (even Toushirou had to acceed to his expertise in both areas, much to his eventual chagrin), went all-out in throwing the biggest engagement bash imaginable. Despite a few notable absences (Yachiru was being babysat by a beleagured Ikkaku, for once unaccompanied by Kenpachi who'd declared he had much better things to do that go to a pansy-ass party; Yamamoto-sutaicho, who had never attened such a soire in the living memory of even Ukitake or Shunsui; and Mayuri, for which everyone was blisfully thankful and who had, in all earnestness, not even been invited), the cave was near to bursting with delighted friends. A drawn-back curtain revealved an entire section of the cave that had been adorned with a well-appointed banquet table, more candles and flowers by the boatload. The invited smells of dinner wafted among the celebrants, who were rather swift in parting the guests of honor.

Rangiku was almost instantly swept away by an avalanche of squealing womenfolk, and even before Toushirou could protest a strong hand gripped his shoulder and whirled him around even as it kept his weak knees from collapsing entirely. Pink floral fabric and a wine glass filled his vision.

"Here - drink this." The deep red vintage was pressed to Hitsugaya's lips despite his protest. "Go on - you need it. You look like you're about to pass out cold." Shunsui somehow managed to be affable and insistant at the same time, a good-natured laugh crinkling the corners of his eyes.

Since there was a measure of truth to the estimation, Toushirou's protests that he did not drink died as he indulged in a healthy swallow. It was a delicious vintage, and the warmth spread almost instantly through his stomach. Some measure of strength returned to him as he threw Shunsui a grateful glance.

"See? Drinking isn't always bad." A wink and he was gone, pushed back by a stern-looking Ukitake.

"You _do_ look paler than usual," offered Ukitake, the proverbial pot, pushing Toushirou into a chair. "Here, you should sit down." No sooner had he made a lap than a little pink bundle of effervescence was firmly planted in it.

"Yay - Whitey-chan!" Yachiru shrieked, hugging Toushirou with a strength all out of proportion with her size. With all seriousness, she gazed up at him with deep brown eyes. "Ken-chan says if you screw this up, he'll kick your ass!"

"_Language_!" Ikkaku roared, trudging up behind his charge and tossing a roguish grin at Hitsugaya. "Yeah, congrats and all that shit...Ukitake - _knock it off_, she's hyper enough already!" The last was directed to the aforementioned's discreet attempt to sneak Yachiru a chocolate bar while no one was watching. Blushing, Ukitake froze, but not before Yachiru had noticed the shiny wrapping. With a squeal and a snatch, the pixie was off and running with bulging cheeks while Ikkaku took off after her, cursing like a sailor.

Renji filed in with a roguish grin of his own, offering his own murmured well-wishes until Byakuya drifted up behind him and he disappeared with a slight flush coloring his tatooed cheeks. The Kuchiki's comments were nothing if not noble and well-bred, while Soi Fong's words were clipped and almost accusatory, for no reason Toshirou could discern. Ichigo was dragged over by a hyperventilating Rukia and only managed to roll his eyes at Toushriou before he was yanked along to join the group of women fawning over Rangiku and the enormous ring. A very chipper Orihime forced both Ishida and Chad to say a few words, and even Urahara made a brief appearance, winking crudely and somehow managing to get in a congratulations without anyone noticing he was there. A few others drifted by until Yumichika showed up with a conternating cluck and ushered everyone off to dinner. For a moment, Toshirou lingered, a slight disappointment stealing through him as he failed to find two very important faces in the crowd. But it wasn't long before Yumichika found him and seated him next to a beaming and radiant Rangiku at the front of the table, and after that he was incapable of thinking about anything else at all.

* * *

It was hours before they could escape from the elaborate dinner and celebration, but some time between the cake and the endless congratulatory speeches (which seemed to have been written all by Yumichika, as everyone read them off of cards and Ayasegawa freaked if they missed so much as a printed word), Toshirou and Rangiku managed to sneak off together. As the dining and revelry continued unabated in the cave below their feet, they escaped up the hill, darting between rows of gleaming grapevine. At the top of the hill, they found a picturesque, sprawling oak and were just looking for a cozy spot to settle down then Rangiku whirled around at a whisp of spirit power approaching behind them.

"You _came_!" Rangiku shrieked, launching herself at the two slender figures emerging from the darkness. "Don't tell me you missed it??"

Calmly fielding her mother's effusive hug, Leiko chuckled. "No, we didn't; we were hiding behind the merlot. We just thought we'd catch you guys alone...later." For a moment, she looked awkward; it was still hard for her to be comfortable around so many shinigami at once, although she tried to avoid reminding her mother of her difficulties fitting in. Throwing her arms around Rangiku, Leiko crushed her in a hug that proved, in itself alone, that she was a Matsumoto. "Wouldn't have missed it for the world!"

"Couldn't have missed it if we wanted to; Yumichika practically papered Sereitei when you weren't looking," Hisagi muttered drolly, strolling in behind her. He tossed Hitsguaya a wry grin. "Congratulations."

As Hitsugaya nodded in manly acceptance, Leiko pulled back and glowered at him. "Yeah, took you long enough." Then she slipped into a mischievous grin. "Not having any doubts, are you?"

"About the marriage, no." Hitsugaya allowed. "But if the engagement was anything to go by, I might be a little terrified of the wedding."

Rangiku scoffed. "Yumichika planned that - whatever posessed you to go to _him_ of all people??" Diving back into Hitsugaya's arms, she snuggled in. "_No one_ is planning the wedding but me."

Toushirou frowned down at her. "And me," he added. He couldn't see the look on her face, but the pause she let hang was definitely a hair too long.

"Of course," she said too brightly. "But you don't want to be bothered about every little detail, do you? And it just so happens that I am _great_ with details! Leave it all to me..." With a coquettish look, she drifted back in the direction of Leiko, where the two commenced an instant and hearty nattering.

Hitsugaya watched them with a frown. "Why do I feel like I've already lost any say in this?"

"Hey, you dug your own grave," Hisagi retorted, watching Leiko with a faint grin.

A white eyebrow quirked heavenward. "And you haven't?" The men shared a moment of comraderie before Hitsugaya's tone turned more serious. "How is she doing, really?"

Hisgai was silent for a moment, appreciating the shift in mood. "It's harder for her than she lets on, but she's determined. The initial reception in Rukongai to the change in plans was a blow, but it's getting better now. They're starting to see that improving their own lot in afterlife is a better medium for change than attacking Sereitei, but since upheaval was the carrot that got them to follow her in the first place..." Hisagi shrugged, a mountain of implication in the gesture. "The SMC has been instrumental, laying counter rumors to undo Leiko's original damage, but change comes slowly." Watching the women chattering on happily, Shuuhei's mood twisted into wry levity. "And it's not like patience is one of her strong suits..."

Hitsugaya snorted impressively, his own lips twisting. "Tell me about it. You'd better watch out, or you're going to get buried under subtle hints." Few things stir up a woman's urge to nest than someone getting married, or so he'd been told by, like - _everyone_.

Never were truer words said. "Oh gods, the ring is gorgeous!" Leiko exclaimed, a little too loudly. "How much does a diamond that big cost??" She managed, without looking away from Rangiku's hand, to give the impression that she was staring holes into Hisagi's head.

The dark captain beside him gulped, so Hitsugaya leapt to the rescue with a neat diversion.

"It's not a diamond," Hitsugaya interjected softly. "I hope you don't mind - I wasn't trying to be cheap or anything, I just thought you might like this better. It's ice." At Rangiku's shocked expression, he hunched his shoulders. "It's better than perfectly clear, and I had Urahara help me design the faceting. It will never shatter or crack, or melt. I swear." Mother and daughter continued to gape at him; Hitsugaya shuffled his feet anxiously. "You still have that ice rose, so I thought...I could get you something else, if you don't like it-"

The rest was lost as Rangiku launched herself into his arms and captured him in a spine-tingling kiss.

"Oh, Toshi. It's _perfect_."

* * *

It wasn't long after that when the night was rendered with the boistrous sounds of the dissipating part below. Egged on by the dispersing shinigami, Leiko and Shuuhei melted away into the shadows, leaving the newly-engaged couple to finally enjoy a moment's peace.

Finally alone, they snuggled into a spot at the bottom of the sprawling oak and watched shinigami slipping away to Sereitei through the senkai gate that had been erected in a field below. In the distance, the rising moon glittered off the surface of a large and silent lake, the night-cry of loons wafting musically on the night breeze. Above them, stars twinkled in the velvet sky. The soothing sounds of night were a relief after the unexpected revelry, and for a long time they sat curled up together, letting the magic of the evening and their new status sink in.

Finally, just as the faintest hints of dawn approached, Toushirou murmured into Rangiku's hair. "What are you thinking about?"

It was several minutes before she answered, her voice more sober than he was expecting. "About a lot of things. Everything, kind of. Us, mostly. And all the things that have lead us to this point." Rangiku leaned into his embrace as he tightened his arms around her. "It's been quite a journey with you, Hitsugaya Toushirou."

"All that's over now," he whispered, kissing her lobe.

In response, Rangiku turned and slowly pushed him to the ground, whispering back.

"No, it's not over. It's just beginning."


End file.
